Prisoner Exchange, a Documentary
by crimsonheart01
Summary: Elle Clarke was finishing her Masters in Photojournalism at Berkeley. She'd been tasked with the last Project that could make or break her career. That was how she found herself enrolled in the prisoner pen pal program at Stockton Penitentiary. Starts between seasons 3&4 when the boys are locked up. Slow Burn. Rated M. Happy/OC. COMPLETE.
1. Prologue: He Would Not Encumber Me

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017**

 **Elle's facecast: Natalie Dormer.**

 **Playlist:** _He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother- The Hollies_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

 ** _Present day…._**

I couldn't pin-point when the change occurred but in this instant it was plain as day. I could only assume it was because I was accustomed to not hearing the familiar roar any longer. It had been two years since the sound was a regular part of my routine. I never realized how acclimatized I was to their obnoxious noise. It was here and now, that it became clear to me how much I missed that familiar rumble of engines. The streets were too quiet, the parking lots seemingly empty, the highways decongested. I missed the thrill of non-confinement that accompanied the lifestyle of their kind, and the vibration of freedom from sitting atop a chopper. I managed to keep myself busy enough to not notice the absence from my life but now it was front and center, it threatened to overcome me.

I felt a lump form in the back of my throat. It was hard enough to be surrounded by still images of them but, to stand here – _every morning_ – waiting to see if they'd show… was heartbreaking. I hoped beyond all hope they would come even after all this time. It was painful to find those hopes dashed every evening when I closed up shop. I had to be disturbed, or foolish to ever think they'd - _he'd_ \- want to see me again. I prayed for any sign, or rumble, or the tremble of the ground at their close approach, only to be disappointed when nothing came.

With each passing night my wish was extinguished. Only to be reignited the very next morning upon opening. I couldn't explain why I continued to set myself up for the disappointment. The exhibit had been on display for almost a month now, and I had yet to see any of them. I toyed with the idea that the invitations were lost in the mail, but I doubted that to the highest degree. They didn't want to see me. _He_ didn't want to be reminded of what we couldn't have.

I rounded the reception desk, sighing as I went, and flipped the closed sign to open. Simultaneously turning the lock. I propped open the door, holding it with my shoulder, shoving the small wooden wedge stopper in the crease of the frame. Another day, another hopeless attempt at reconciliation. I was destined to miss him for the rest of my life. Could I live with that? I guess I had no other choice.

I flicked up the half dozen light switches, watching with watery eyes, as each section of the gallery lit up. My memories brought to life in front of me; my first real love re-lived through strangers. I shuffled through the display to the end where I concluded the exhibit. I stared up at the floor-to-ceiling capture. It was one snapshot I'd kept a secret, never showing him. It was raw with emotion. If nothing ever came of my reaching out, than I would at least have this memory immortalized.

I signed up to tell their story not to cultivate my own. It was theirs that needed to be said. I had done my job in doing just that, even if it was at the expense of having my own buried. I wiped the single tear that escaped and stifled the sob beginning. My assistant chose that particular moment to appear from behind the back wall. Misunderstanding my sorrow for compassion, she came and stood beside me, nodding her head.

"This has to be the best shot of the entire collection." She commented, "I understand why you saved it for last. It draws quite the crowd."

I didn't respond but stared at the scene in front of me. It was aptly named _The Outsider_ , referring to myself. I didn't need the questions, or comments, that would follow if it was common knowledge that I was the woman in that picture. I never felt I needed to divulge that information. It was too intimate a moment for the two of us.

However, in that moment I didn't quite care who was around. I knew my assistant was observant and I also knew I could trust her to keep her findings to herself. She understood the gravity of privacy that surrounded this collection. She was one of the only people I confided in when it came to this project.

Of its own accord, my hand rested above my breast tugging on the chain around my neck. I always kept it hidden, fearing that someone would connect it to the man in the pictures but it was my last _connection_ to him. My assistant caught the movement and watched me from the corner of her eye. I pulled the necklace out, brandishing the large silver Reaper ring. She furrowed her brow for a split second before her eyes widened as the dots connected.

I held his ring against my lips relishing in the feel of the cool metal against my skin. I closed my eyes pretending that it wasn't his ring pressed to my mouth but something else. A few stray tears fell and I felt my assistant's fingers curl around my free hand. She squeezed as I whispered a name I had been too afraid to speak aloud.

 _"…Happy…_ "


	2. The Good Advice You Just Didn't Take

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Ironic - Alanis Morissette_

 **Dislcaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

 ** _Four years prior…_**

I looked down at my outfit for the thousandth time. I felt as the grimace on my face grew more pronounced. I didn't belong here, sitting in this dingy waiting room. That much was obvious. Half of who surrounded me were a bunch of lowlife hussy's. Clearly only having signed up for the program to get a little something more than a 'friendly' face. The other half was the broken family members who were here to get that one extra day to see their father, brother, boyfriend, or husband.

I never felt more out of place in my entire life. I caught every single side glance and cut eye shot in my direction. The worst part was that it wasn't just the women who were wary of me. The guards had taken it upon themselves to comment that I was too ' _pretty of a girl_ ' to be in a place like this. Even to ask outright if I was lost. How one could accidently find them sitting in the waiting room of a prison, I didn't know. Regardless of that, they thought it was a rational question. One particularly greasy man found it appropriate to tell me I shouldn't be wasting myself away waiting for the poor excuses of humans who were locked up here.

I tugged my messenger bag closer, flattening it across my stomach. As much as I felt like an outsider, I didn't need to show any of these people how nervous I really was. I couldn't remember why I thought this would be a good idea in the first place but here I was, pursuing a potential story. I clasped my hands together over the buckle on my bag. My fingers curled around one another, linking together in mutual anxiety. In order to ignore the glares I managed to find a blank spot on the wall ahead of me and stared straight. I prayed that the wait wouldn't be much longer. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. I bounced around the idea of just leaving but figured I'd made it this far already. I couldn't chicken out before meeting my inmate.

I still remembered the ominous looking envelope when I fished it out of my mailbox. It resembled the institution all on its own, coupled with the curtness within the wording, just enforced that it was from a government facility. The main point of the letter was to inform me of who my inmate was going to be and when I was welcome to come to the prison and meet him face-to-face. The line where his name was listed was burned into my mind.

 **Lowman, H.**

The name gave me shivers and I discreetly shook them off. I was freaking out more than just a little. _Lowman…_ it sounded dangerous. _Was I going to be conversing with a murderer? Or worse, a rapist?_ At that thought my stomach turned and I bit down a gag. _Was this worth my degree? Or my mental wellbeing?_ I took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling through my nose. I could do this. I needed to stop psyching myself out.

The man I was about to meet had no means of harming me and if he tried, the guards would step in faster than I could curse him. To ease my mind I began running through the contents in my bag. I carried the same items to each interview I conducted, it never changed. One notepad, one sketchpad, two no. 2 HB pencils, one Staedtler eraser, three ball point pens (2 blue and 1 black), and finally one incredibly old school tape recorder. I always came prepared. I knew that the guards would question me about what was in my bag, so having the items fresh on my mind would help me to get through their persistent questions faster.

"Clarke!" a dark woman, behind the barred counter, shouted.

I jumped up having my thoughts interrupted by my name being called. I strode with purpose over to the desk, ready for my instructions. The woman behind the small opening thrust a dollar store sticker name tag at me, coupled with a black Sharpie.

"Write your name." She instructed while also handing me a lanyard that stated VISITOR in big black letters, "Keep that on you at all times."

I nodded, looping the nylon around my neck, turning it so was visible.

The woman held her hand out, "Bag."

I shrugged the strap over my head and folded it neatly on top of the bag as I pushed it through the opening in to the office. She wrote my last name and my first initial on a tag and wrapped it around the first loop of where the strap was connected to my bag. She then pushed it aside into a bin next to her.

"Uhm…" I stumbled over finding the right words, "My bag?"

The woman glared up at me, one eyebrow raised. Realizing that I thought she'd give me my bag back she sighed, "You can't bring anything in with you."

The warning clear in her voice. I gulped visibly and felt as my face paled. I gave a slight nod of confirmation and turned to leave. I pushed the marker back towards her as I moved towards the big locked door next to the office. She grabbed my wrist catching my attention again. I stared at her, scared and unsure of myself.

"No one would think any less of you if you walked out that door right now."

She jerked her head in the direction of the front entrance. I saw her other hand firmly gripped on the handle of my tote, willing me to make the decision she felt was best for me. I narrowed my eyes and pulled my arm from her grip.

"I'll be fine." I stated.

Instead of sounding strong and convicted, I sounded as if I was still trying to convince myself. She shrugged and motioned for me to proceed to the armed door. I waited in front, entering after a loud buzzer sounded and the red light on the wall next to me flickered green. The door swung open and I was greeted by two hulking men, armed to the teeth. They glanced down at me, a questioning look crossing their faces. They both recovered quickly enough and beckoned me to follow them down the narrow hallway.

I nodded meekly and shuffled behind them, making as little noise as possible. Not even a full minute later, we came to another armed gate. The brown skinned guard banged his rifle against the metal bars, notifying whoever was in the security room to open up. The buzzer went off and the brown skin guard went through first. The Caucasian guard nudged me forward and followed close behind.

It was in this moment that I realized I was no longer secluded from the prisoners. I was now walking down a hall where the general population had roamed. I heard a few wolf whistles off in the distance and some crude comments directed at me. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets and stared straight ahead.

I fought with the overwhelming need to slouch my shoulders forward and hide my face, or to hold my head high and walk with purpose. Either way I would give off the wrong impression. I was either meek and easily targeted or proud and stubborn, needing to be taught a lesson. I settled for remaining aloof, pretending that I hadn't noticed any of the commotion.

We reached another door, this time there was a long window between the room and the hallway. I peeked inside and saw the few people who had been called before me, sitting in the spacious room. The guards opened the door and shuffled me in.

The brown skinned man addressed me, "There's a seating plan on the board. Find your name and sit there."

I nodded and moved to the corkboard where a crumpled piece of paper with a poorly drawn seating chart was placed. I found my name easily enough and bee lined it for my corner table. Next to a window. Thankfully, this window looked out over the recreational outdoor area. I was relieved that I didn't have to sit near the front window that looked out into the hallway. Where the free prisoners walked. I happily distracted myself by watching the interactions between the various inmates.

It took at least another half an hour before each seat was filled in the visitor's room. I glanced around, seeing the different faces of people settled in around me. Most were excited and chattering happily. A few were vainly primping themselves by way of their reflections in the window. As I scanned the room, I noticed that there was now a long line of inmates standing just outside the room. Most were peering through the window, panting after the sleazy girls.

The girls noticed they'd been spotted and started waving, and batting their eye lashes. I rolled my eyes and spent another minute studying the faces of the men standing just out of our reach. All in all they looked like regular boys, and men. No one that would strike you as different when walking down the street. Some didn't even look like they were capable of committing a crime. I guessed that was their appeal though. They looked innocent even when they were guilty.

Nearing the end of the line I saw a man that instilled terror deep within me. A fear I'd never felt before. I nearly jumped out of my chair and ran for the door. His eyes were pitch black, hard and emotionless. The scowl on his face was fierce and unyielding. I gulped, audibly I'm sure. He must have felt my gaze on him because he shifted, his head turning towards me. I widened my eyes and whipped my head to the side, searching for something to catch my attention out the window.

I regulated my breathing. Each breath inhaling and exhaling through my nose. Making as little noise as possible. My heart was racing and I squeezed my hands into fists on my knees. My shoulders were tensed and I concentrated on slowly relieving my stress.

The guards moved around the room, taking up their posts, holding their weapons in plain sight. A blatant power play in front of the locked up men in here. The front door opened, and one by one each inmate was sent to their pair. Their names were announced and they were escorted by a guard to the table where their pen-pal sat.

"Lowman." A guard grunted.

My head snapped up and to my dismay I saw the terrifying man walk through the door.

The guard nodded in my direction, "Table by the window."

I shivered, noting exactly where each guard was placed in the room. My inmate, Lowman, nodded and walked in my direction. I sat frozen, unable to take my eyes off the intimidating man advancing towards me. The guard didn't even find it necessary to escort him to me. _What were they thinking?_ I noticed that I was located the farthest away from any of the guards and I started to panic. _Had this been planned?_ The guards in this place had been commenting about me being here since I walked into the building. _Was this a set up?_

While I had a borderline panic attack, my inmate pulled the chair out across from me and slumped down. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he settled down in the chair. My nerves shot through the roof at the closeness of this man. All I could focus on was the large snake tattoo that covered his skull. Only seen due to the fact that he was completely bald.

His eyes never left me and it made me breathless. There was a large vertical scar that descended from his right eye down his cheek. He was donned in the traditional orange jumpsuit but the top half of the suit was folded down and tied around his waist. This left his torso covered in a simple white t-shirt. Based on the fact that both his arms were riddled with tattoos, I could only assume that his entire chest was as well.

I'd never been in the company of someone so intimidating. Never mind even seen someone like him before. I thought for the second time that day, _what did I get myself into?_ I immediately began imagining what he could have done to get locked up in prison. My first thought was horrible, and I willed myself to not think about it but being unable to form any kind other coherent thought I ended up blurting out the first thing I came up with.

"Are you a rapist?" I whispered.

My hands shot up to cover my mouth and my eyes bulged. _Well shit!_ It was confirmed; I'd lost my mind. _Who waltzes up to a prison and asks the first convict they'd ever met if he's a rapist?_ I felt that urge to throw up once again.

I began shaking my head, "No - _don't answer that_ \- I don't want to know."

I peered at the man in front of me and through the entire exchange there wasn't an inkling of any recognition that I'd even spoken. I studied him for a minute and then groaned, laying my forehead on the table.

"I'm a fucking idiot." I mumbled, more to myself than anything.

For the first time since he sat down he spoke, "Yes, you are."

His voice was deep and hoarse. There was a definite gravel to his tone, giving his voice a deep reverb. I lifted my head, looking up at him. His expression never changed, and had I not just heard him speak, I would have never been able to tell he made any noise at all. I slowly lifted my head, never taking my eyes off him. He shifted sitting straighter than a moment ago.

"Pardon me?" I asked, dumbly.

He didn't answer me. I snorted. Of course he didn't answer. _Had I really expected him to?_ No. I glanced at the caged clock on the wall parallel to us. 12:35 PM. I glanced back at him. Great, another twenty-five minutes before our 'visit' was up. I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other and clasping my hands together above my knee.

We spent the remainder of our time staring at one another, in complete silence. All the while I watched him carefully, examining each subtle move he made. I noticed little things that no one would ever see unless they knew this man personally, or had sat around for almost a half hour studying him. He had a tick. I couldn't say it was a nervous one because he seemed perfectly at ease, but he twisted his thumb around his index finger on his right hand, as if he'd been used to twirling a ring or something. When he noticed me watching his hands he stopped and folded his arms across his chest once more.

From that moment on he spent his time staring out the window, ignoring my presence completely. Soon after that, and to my relief, the guard standing out in the hall tapped on the window, indicating to all that our time was up. I gazed around the room and most of the inmates and their partners were trying to get in a few last words. I turned, with the intention to at least say goodbye, only to find my inmate already walking away, halfway to the exit.

I sighed feeling a bit relieved that I was no longer in his presence. The man was downright horrifying. Once the rest of the convicts had exited and were being escorted away, the guards rounded up the rest of us and brought us back to the waiting room.

Once I gathered my effects I moved on. Making my way to my little car on the opposite of the parking lot. With a shaking hand I unlocked the driver's side door and slipped in. I gripped either side of the steering wheel, head bent down and taking long calming breaths. I squeezed my eyes shut but regretted the decision immediately as his piercing black eyes haunted my memories.

I shivered, happy to be outside on the other side of the barbed fence. I would seriously have to weigh the pros and cons about my project. After that meeting, I might just be put off of the idea entirely. I shoved the keys into the ignition and turned the car on. I backed out of my parking space and began my long trek back home, a picture of my inmate – _Lowman, H._ – imprinted into my brain.


	3. Another Day, Another War

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Who Will Save Your Soul - Jewel_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

Today marked my fifth visit to see my inmate. Each pair was assigned the exact same table every week. So there I sat, at our table, as I had begun to call it. Leaning forward, my hands resting on the tabletop and clasped together. Each week the routine was the same. All the visitors gathered in the waiting room at 11:30 in the morning and by 12:00 PM we were all sitting in our respective places.

Since my last name started with the third letter in the alphabet, I was seated before most and that gave me the chance to gaze out the window. I actually found myself starting to enjoy watching the activities of other inmates in the yard. Staring out at today's impromptu basketball game, I thought about the possibility of making this my last visit.

I'll admit that my inmate intrigued me at first, but as the weeks went by I didn't know how long I could bear sitting across from him in complete silence. I had a project to submit and my timeline was starting to close. I clearly wasn't getting anywhere with him and he'd taken to trying to stop me from coming back anyway.

When I left this morning to drive out to the prison I was of the mind to tell him to go fuck himself, and that he won, I wouldn't be coming back. On the long drive over, I figured that I was more mad at myself for choosing the impossible and taking it out on a man who I knew nothing about. I calmed down a bit after that but I was still resolved that this would be my last time. I'd say goodbye today even if it was the only thing I said.

I did have one thing to look forward too though. This afternoon was the day I finally got to go on a date with the guy across the hall. That kept my spirits up a bit. I looked up to see the guards bringing in another girl to be seated. I realized we were only half way through seating everyone. I let out a deep sigh, focussing even more on the court through the window. Our previous visits running through my mind.

* * *

 _~ Second visit ~_

* * *

I contemplated never going back, but there was something about the silent man that made me return that Sunday morning. I attempted to strike up a conversation with him that day to no avail. It frustrated me to no end. _How could anyone be that quiet?_ It was unnatural. It was after that session that I finally wrote my first letter. Not that it said much. I still didn't know his first name. All I wrote him was:

 ** _I'll be there next week._**

I don't know why but I managed to feel disappointed when he never wrote anything back. I couldn't even be sure he received the note in the first place. I think somewhere in my subconscious I thought that he'd open up through letters. For a split second I dreamt up the idea that his tongue had been cut out and that would explain why he never spoke but that thought was ruined by remembering that he'd, more or less, called me an idiot on our first visit. Against my better judgement, I showed up for the third week in a row.

* * *

 _~ Third visit ~_

* * *

On the third visit, the guards stopped giving us name tags settling for just giving us the visitor's badge. During that visit, I noticed he'd taken to glancing around at the other woman in the room, particularly the scantily clad ones. It irked me making me think that I'd only catch his attention if I was a willing to go down on him in front of the entire room. I left that day in a huff noticing the tiny smirk that was on his lips as I went. After downing a full bottle of wine, it occurred to me later that night that he was _trying_ to piss me off. Maybe it was because he didn't want me to come back. Either way it made me mad, so head-strong that I was, I took it out in the only way I knew how. I wrote him another note:

 ** _You're brilliant plan failed. I'll be there on Sunday, asshole._**

When I woke up the next morning, I regretted sending the note. I had no idea how the man was going to react to me calling him names. It was a stupid and rash decision on my part. I groaned purposely blocking out my misstep and going along with the rest of my week.

* * *

 _~ Fourth visit ~_

* * *

I almost expected him not to show up. I realized that I didn't know if the inmates had a choice in coming or not. Were they forced into doing this program? It didn't make sense to me to force an inmate to be in contact with a civilian so I deduced that it probably wasn't a forced venture. It made me wonder how and why he signed up for this. _Was he illiterate?_ Probably not.

I glanced around the room and remembered the type of women that signed up for this little exchange and it dawned on me that he probably wanted one of them, not me. I knew the second he walked through the door that he received my letter because I was greeted with a not too friendly glare. I shrugged sheepishly at him actually feeling guilty for losing my temper.

"Sorry." I mumbled, "I may have been drunk."

He raised an eyebrow and I could've sworn I saw the ghost of a smile. The rest of our time passed in mutual silence. I wasn't up for trying to get him to speak so I just let him be. When our time was up he stood and walked away. There was no acknowledgement of what I'd said to him and there was no goodbye. I think it was then that I finally decided that I would give it one last chance. If our next visit proved to be useless again, I wouldn't come back.

* * *

 ** _… Present day …_**

* * *

I was deep in my thoughts, staring out the window and didn't register the sound of the chair across from me scraping along the linoleum. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't realize he was even sitting, nor for how long.

"You look different." His deep voice rasped.

Still lost in my own little world, I responded without thinking, "I have a date."

There was a pause and then he repeated my words, "A date?"

I snapped my head up, slowly turning to face him with wide eyes. _Had I actually just said that to him? Was that really the prompt that made him speak to me? Was this him actually starting a conversation with me?_ Thoughts began swirling around in my mind, surprised that he said anything at all.

It didn't take long for everything to settle and I realized he only chose to speak to me when I presented myself differently than any other week. I licked my lips, knowing now that he was seeing me for the first time dressed up. I was going on my date immediately after this visit so I got ready this morning before coming to the prison. I actually managed to wake up early enough to shower, which meant that my hair was down. Not up in its usual messy bun, with pens sticking out.

I'd even taken up the advice of my best friend and wore a splash of make-up. A little eyeliner here, some eye shadow there, and a bit of lip colour, and I was deemed decent enough for a lasting first impression. I lifted an eyebrow in disgust, was he daring to compare me to the other women in this room. I wasn't even remotely dressed like any of them. I was wearing a cream crocheted top, with the same colour camisole underneath. That was paired with a plain pair of dark blue jeans. The most I'd done in my outfit was wearing the only pair of heels I owned. The pair of tanned booties.

I'd decided to dress up and look good for the cute guy across the hall. Was that such a bad thing? Not at all, but the problem now was that this inmate thought I'd done it for him. Now there was the assumption that I was trying to impress him. No. That wasn't about to happen. He was going to get a piece my mind. _Five weeks and this is what it took to get him to speak to me?_

"Five weeks…" I spit out.

He raised an eyebrow at me in question.

I shook my head in disbelief, "Five weeks it takes you to say a damn word to me, and it's about my appearance?!"

I nearly yelled but schooled myself to a low authoritative tone. I didn't want an audience to our argument. He shrugged, a small smirk on his face. I wanted to slap him. I couldn't believe his audacity.

I pointed an accusing finger at him, "I know you aren't thinking that this is for you." His smirk broadened and I bit out, "Don't you dare compare to the women in this room. I am nothing like them!"

My temper was getting the best of me but in this particular moment I couldn't care less. For the first time he leaned in, his elbows resting on each knee. He stared at me, intrigue in his eye. I figured that his interest was piqued by my anger and tone. I had to admit that he didn't look like the kind of man that anyone, mainly woman, would speak to in the manner that I was addressing him. I nearly backed off before deciding that I didn't care. He pissed me off. I leaned forward, matching his stance, getting as close as possible. I'd play into his little game.

"Would you rather I be one of those girls? With no substance?" My voice came out sickly sweet, like molasses.

I bat my eyelashes at him in a cartoonish manner. I watched as his fists clenched and his eyes widened slightly. I could tell that he knew I was mocking him.

I smirked back at him, puckering my lips and running one finger along my lower lip in a seductive fashion, "Do you wish that I was writing you with all the dirty little fantasies I've had about you?"

I held his gaze an innocent expression on my face. I saw the flicker of arousal in his eyes and scoffed.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair, "Sorry to burst you bubble pal, but I'm not a prostitute. I'm a journalist."

I shrugged with attitude and turned my gaze back out the window. I was seething but didn't want him to see how much he affected me. He didn't say anything for the longest time, still leaning forward. I had my arms folded across my chest, tapping my fingers in annoyance across my upper arm, waiting impatiently for our time to be finished. With five minutes to spare, I recalled that I was making this my last visit. I turned back to the man sitting across from me and opened my mouth to speak. Before anything could come out, he cut me off.

"Happy."

I furrowed my brow, confused by his use of the word. _Was he telling me he was happy?_ _Was he trying to tell me I should be happy? Was our little power play a turn on for him?_ He said it so matter-o-factly, like there was no room for discussion.

"I-what?" I questioned.

He didn't respond. No surprise there. Instead he stood up and made his way back to the entrance. I stared after him and the guard let him exit. He spared a glance at me through the window, before disappearing down the hallway. I sat there dumbfounded and pissed. Asshole chose the day I was committed to quitting to pique my interest again.

I groaned, "Fuck…"

I'd be coming back next week.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

"Scare the girl away yet?" Tig laughed as he flopped down on his bunk.

Happy was leaning against the bars of their cell, waiting for the rest of the boys to come back in from the yard. He shook his head in answer to Tig's question. Tig noticed the man's quietness, more so than regular.

"Hap," Tig sat up, eyeing his brother with concern, "What's up?"

Hap stuck out his bottom lip in thought shaking his head, but said nothing. Tig watched the man closely, wondering what was bothering him. He'd normally come back from the pen-pal visits grumpy, but this was different. The man was irked about something. Tig could only assume it had to go with the woman he'd been seeing once a week but he didn't know how a woman could ever bother a man like Happy.

There was only one woman in his life that Happy allowed his emotions to be involved with, and that was his mother. _Who was this chick that he'd been seeing?_ There was a commotion from behind them and the rest of the boys in their cell came clamouring in. They were loud and boisterous, talking about some fight that occurred in the yard.

Happy turned on a dime and sought out their Prez, "Clay, need to talk."

Clay tilted his head in question at the killer, but motioned for him to sit, "What's on your mind, brother?"

Happy chose to stand, forgoing the option to sit, "My, uh, pen-pal." He grimaced at the word but couldn't think of anything else to say.

Clay nodded, "What about her?"

"She said something interesting today." He continued.

Clay narrowed his eyes, "What's that?"

Happy sighed, "Said she's a journalist."

Jax interrupted, "What's a journalist visiting you for?"

Happy shrugged.

"Do you think she got you on purpose?" Tig asked.

Another shrug. He had no idea how the program worked. He didn't know if the pairings were random or not. He assumed they were random because of how scared she was on their first visit, but if he were being honest, she probably would've been even more terrified if she really knew anything about him.

"What do you think she wants?" Jax thought out loud.

All the boys huddled around the small bunk, trying to figure out how and why a journalist was spending time with their brother.

"Hap, you got any kind of read on her?" Tig questioned.

He shook his head, "No. Hard to tell. We don't talk."

After deep thought Clay broke the silence, "Got a name?" Happy nodded and Clay continued, "Alright I'll put in a call to Chibs, get the prospects to scope her out. See what they can find. I'll tell Gem to put her name on my visitor's list." He took a breath processing his next train of thought. "Happy," Clay pointed, "You'll meet with her next week inform her that I want a little meet and greet and give her the date of my visit rotation."

Happy gave a jerked nod, agreeing with his orders. The boys quieted for a moment when Jax broke the silence.

"What made her say anything in the first place?" Jax asked, knowing that Happy and this chick never spoke.

Happy rolled his eyes, "I pissed her off."

The comment gained smirks from the other boys.

"What'd you do?" Tig quizzed.

"Commented on her appearance." Happy said.

Juice raised his eyebrows, "She hot?"

Happy tilted his head, giving the kid a condescending look, "She's not a crow eater."

Bobby laughed out loud at that, "That's not a 'no'."

Tig clapped Happy on the back, "Maybe Killer here has a crush."

Happy shrugged him off crossing his arms. The boys around him broke out into raucous laughter while Happy leaned into the bunk remembering the length of her hair.


	4. Point of No Return

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017.**

 **Playlist:** _Magnets (feat. Lorde) - Disclosure_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I drove down the narrow streets of Oakland heading towards Berkeley. I'd spent the evening with my parents, having a nice family dinner. I felt bad for them from time to time because my brother moved out of state and I was always too busy with school. I only lived twenty minutes away and still couldn't find the time to visit them.

I still hadn't told them what I had planned for my final project. I was positive they'd disapprove. They weren't entirely pleased with my career choice in the first place. No need to give them premature heart-attacks because I was now a regular at one of the local prisons. It was hard not to tell them what my plan was, but they'd never understand my thought process.

I spent the entire evening skirting around the issue but was unable to fully get it off my mind. I'd been bugged by what my inmate had said before he left. I still couldn't shake the memory of his odd word choice. I felt like I knew what he'd meant by it and couldn't figure it out. I knew it was staring me in the face but didn't know where to find it.

I pulled onto my street and drove up the steep hill. If there was only one thing to complain about in the city, it'd be the damn hills everywhere. I found a parking spot a few doors down from the front of my building and expertly manoeuvered into the tight space along the curb. I got out of the car, locking it behind me. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned.

The lights in the front lobby were dim and yellow, making my fatigue an iota worse. I stopped in the small alcove where all the mailboxes were housed and opened mine up. I grabbed the letters and shuffled through them, while walking up the first flight of stairs. I rounded the corner, huffing at the mail in my hands; all bills. I reached my door and slide the key into the lock. I went to turn it but was stopped when the door pushed open by itself. I held my breath. _Had I forgotten to lock the door before I left?_

I pushed it open further peering in but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I shrugged and went in, kicking the door shut behind me. I dropped my keys in the bowl next to the door and plopped my bag down on the kitchen counter. I leaned back tucking my finger under the lip of the first envelope and tearing it open. I was pulling out the folded pieces of paper when everything went dark, a gloved hand covering my eyes.

"Don't move." A man's voice spoke from behind me.

I let out a whimper and his other hand clamped down around my mouth. My fight or flight instinct kicked in and I lifted my right foot before slamming it down on his.

He shoved me forward yelling, "Fuck!"

I stumbled to remain upright, grabbing onto the handle of the nearest drawer. I ripped open the drawer and grabbed a handful of random utensils. In one timely hurl, I threw the entire contents of the drawer at the man dressed in all black.

"Get out of my apartment!" I screeched, hoping that Charlie across the hall would hear and call the cops.

The man was advancing on me, both of us shuffling around my kitchen island. I continued to pick up and throw random objects at him.

"HELP!" I screamed relentlessly.

"Shut up!" He hissed.

At his demand I only got louder, "Help! INTRUDER! HELP ME!"

We both heard a door slam and the intruder decided I wasn't worth pursuing. He turned and booked it through my front door, ramming Charlie down into the floor.

"Charlie!" I yelled, worried for my neighbour.

Charlie scrambled to his feet, chasing after the man who'd broken into my apartment. Tina, the woman from a floor above, must have heard the commotion because she was leaning over the bannister shouting down to me.

"Elle! Is everything ok?"

I heard her voice in staccato, as if she was running down stairs. When she passed the threshold of my apartment I burst into tears, realizing I was now out of immediate danger. I sank down to the floor, in the middle of my living room, covering my face with my hands, letting violent sobs wrack through my body. Tina's slim arms slid around my shoulders and pulled me close to her chest.

"Don't worry hunny, we'll call the police." She cooed in my ear.

I only cried harder, now terrified of my own safe space. I'd never be able to sleep here again, not after this. I felt as Tina looked up at the sound of more feet rushing towards us.

"Elle?!" Charlie's voice echoed through the hallway.

He skid to a stop, seeing both Tina and I crumpled in a heap on my living room floor. I heard the loud beeps coming from a phone and then Charlie's voice.

"Hello? 911? I'd like to report a break and enter."

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Hours later I was bleary eyed and drained to the point of exhaustion. The cops had shown up within minutes of Charlie's call. They'd taken statements from the three of us as well as were making their rounds through the building, disturbing the sleeping people, and asking for their statements.

While giving my account on the events I was forced to admit what I'd been doing in my spare time. I didn't want to say anything about Stockton, but they asked if I knew anyone who might have a reason to hurt me. I didn't think my inmate had any reason to target me but I had to be on the safe side. Charlie happened to be in the room when I had told the police about my visitation and from the look on his face, I didn't think we'd be going on that second date after all.

It was as if he'd decided it was my fault this happened. Or maybe he was angry that I didn't tell him about my project. There wasn't really any room to bring it up between all the making out and wine of our first date, but what can you do. It didn't take him long to leave my apartment and shut to door to his, the sound of him locking it loud enough to hear over all the commotion.

Tina gave me a small shrug, as if to apologize for his behaviour like it was her fault Charlie turned out to be a prejudiced asshole. Maybe she felt guilty because she ultimately introduced the two of us, but he was my neighbour, we'd have ran into each other at some point or another. I felt the urge to weep, probably more from fatigue than hurt, but Charlie's abrupt departure is what spurred the feeling initially. The police had even given me odd looks at the confession. It was as if they viewed me as a lesser person, knowing that I was visiting someone in prison of my own free will. I sighed unsure if I should bother continuing with my project topic.

"Ma'am?" The younger officer asked.

I looked up, dazed and shook my head, "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you had somewhere to stay." He repeated.

"Oh. Yeah. My parents live over in Oakland. I can stay with them." I answered.

He nodded and moved away, going back to his commanding officer and leaving me to collect my effects. As I wandered around my apartment, piling my toiletries, clothes, textbooks, camera, laptop, and the little things I thought I might need into a travel bag, I came across something strange. The garbage bin beside my desk had been dumped on its side and the contents all over the floor.

One piece of paper caught my eye. The crumpled up letter from the prison had been smoothed out and placed back on my desk. The intruder clearly thought that they needed to go through my trash and found that document important. I looked down at the letter and the name typed in bold face font:

 **Lowman, H.**

"Oh my god." I gasped.

There it was, staring right at me. _How had I not put it together before?_ Lowman, H. Lowman _comma_ fucking H. Lowman, Happy. Happy Lowman. My inmate had told me his name. I snatched up the paper, stuffing it into my bag before making my way to the front where the officers were waiting for me. I informed them of the turned over waste basket and handed over my spare key.

"We'll be in touch Ms. Clarke." The CO addressed, "Shouldn't be more than a few days before you can be home again."

I gave him a tight smile and nodded. I doubt I'd feel safe enough to come home in a few days, even if they managed to catch the bastard. I'd always be afraid that someone would be waiting for me when I came home. Hopefully spending some time in my old room, at my parents place, would help me work through this. However, if it didn't, then I always had the option to break my lease and move. I made my way back down the stairs and out to where my car was parked. I guess I was going to be living at home again for a while. _How was I going to explain this to my parents without them losing their minds?_

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

The traffic on the way to Stockton was horrendous. That coupled with living back home with my parents had me thoroughly irritated by the time I'd reached the prison. I arrived with minutes to spare. The guards were bringing in the last bunch of girls through the gates when I showed up. I was rushed through, badge nearly thrown at me and my bag tossed into the bucket behind the reception counter. I hated that I was walking down the halls with the other women. I was not one of them, and not particularly in the mood to be associated with them and the vibe they were putting out there.

We were ushered through the door and told to sit in our respective seats. I was only just approaching our table when they started letting the inmates through the door. I pulled out my chair and sat turning to see Happy already half way to the table. I rubbed my hands over my face. When I got home I'd be taking a nice long bath, maybe even roll myself a joint to relieve some stress. Happy sat down, leaning backwards with his legs opened.

"You look like shit." He observed.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "It's nice to see you too."

I knew that my eyes were bloodshot, with large bags under them. It's hard to get a good night's sleep when less than a week ago your apartment had been broken into. I waited for some type of reaction but none came. I sighed, resting my elbows on the table and ducking my head down. I was tired and probably getting sick judging by the tickle forming in my throat. The drive out here had taken all my energy. I was in no mood to put up with Happy and his bullshit. I peeked up at my inmate, examining his unreadable expression. I needed to figure out if he was going to make these visits worth my while, or I was giving up on the whole initiative altogether.

"Look," I started, "I don't know that I can keep this up…"

He arched an eyebrow waiting for me to continue.

I sat up, staring him in the eyes, "The trip out here is taxing and to make that trek only to have you sit here in silence is pointless. If there's no reason for me to keep coming, let me know now and we'll call this our last visit."

He nodded his head as if he'd been mulling over my words. I reached up rubbed my eyes again, the exhaustion catching up with me.

"My Prez wants to meet you." He announced.

I furrowed my brow, "Your who? What?" I didn't understand what he was trying to say to me.

"Clay Morrow." He elaborated, "His visit rotation is on Wednesdays from 12 pm to 2 pm. He's _requested_ your presence."

I heard the infliction he used when he used the operative word. He made it sound like it was a demand, like I had no choice but to show up.

"I'm sorry, but what makes _you_ think, or _your Prez_ for that matter, that I'd willingly waltz into another visit with a convict?" I asked, astonished at the request.

There were a few minutes of strained silence on his part. I could have mistaken his silence as normal but there was a tightening around his eyes that clued me in to the fact that I'd done something offensive. I raised an eyebrow in question, unsure of why there was a sudden tension between us. I decided to dig myself into an even deeper hole.

"I don't know the slightest thing about you, _Happy_." I stated, "You can't really think I'd readily show up to a private visitation with a convict I'd never met before by the request of another?"

He stared at me as his jaw clenched. I focused on him, reading his body language. Within minutes he'd gone from aloof to completely hostile. _What was up with this guy?_ He sat up straighter his eyes boring into mine.

"We can always arrange for another nightly visit…" He spoke.

His tone was drenched in hatred and it made me shiver. He spoke in such a muted tone it literally sent terror flooding through my veins. I backed up in my chair, moving as far away from him as possible. His words took their time, but once they clicked in I felt ice in my stomach. _How had he managed to have someone assault me in my own home? How had they found out where I lived?_

"It was _you_?" I whispered.

He didn't answer just gave me a confirming gaze. The tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the unnecessary danger I'd put myself in. I sniffled and immediately wiped away the few tears that escaped. I was furious with myself. _Why had I thought this was a good idea?_ _What had I done to deserve the treatment this man was giving me?_ I pushed myself out of my chair violently and froze. I was debating about slapping him across the face but opted for the non-confrontational route. If I hit him there was no telling how he'd retaliate. I turned on my heel and ran to the guard standing at the main door.

"I would like to leave now, sir." I demanded.

Him and the other guards glanced from me to the inmate I'd been meeting. They all nodded and the guard opened the door for me. As I was walking through the threshold I heard that terrorizing voice raise over the noise, "Clay Morrow. Wednesday."

I fought the sob that worked its way up and raced to the exit. I needed to get out of here. I needed to take a moment to think through my options. The guard brought me to the exit and I thanked him before high-tailing it out of the prison like the devil was hot on my heels.


	5. Don't Forget Where You Came From

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Love Yourself - Justin Bieber_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror a towel wrapped around my still damp skin. I used one hand and wiped the steam away from my reflection. I twisted my hair around my hand, squeezing the excess water out. My small toiletry bag sat unzipped on the covered toilet seat. I grabbed my face cream, smearing a generous amount on my hand and then rubbing it onto my face in small circles.

I closed my eyes still feeling a slight buzz. Never underestimate the soothing effects of a warm bath and a joint. It did wonders for my stress levels. With the steam of the hot water came clarity. I decided that I'd meet with this Clay Morrow guy. I was still nervous as hell, but at least I could discontinue all contact with the convicts in my life in one shot. 'Head straight for the top to get things done' as my father always said.

I rolled out the kinks in my neck before twirling my hair into a loose up-do to dry. I unfolded the towel, hanging it on the hook behind the door. I slipped on a baggy t-shirt, boy short underwear and a pair of black yoga shorts. I'd had a long day. Surprisingly, I'd found solace in knowing exactly who had broken into my apartment. Weirdly enough, it even made me feel a bit safer. I think just knowing who was behind the assault lifted the fear of the unknown. I had a channel for my anger now.

I sighed while walking down the hallway of my childhood home to my very unchanged bedroom. I didn't spend a lot of time here anymore and my room still looked like it housed a teenaged cheerleader. I dropped onto the bed sprawling out, exhausted from the week. I stared up at the ceiling, staring at those silly green glow in the dark stars I plastered up there when I was eleven.

I had three days until I needed to meet with Happy's ' _President'_. Whatever that meant. Maybe I'd learn a little bit more about my inmate. No. My _former_ inmate. I rolled over tucking under the covers and pulling the clip out of my hair. It was still early, around 10:30 pm but I needed the sleep. I felt like I hadn't slept in months. Within seconds I'd fallen into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I was sitting at a round table with the seats attached like a bench. There were half a dozen other tables like mine around the room but the place was empty. I had no idea what or who to expect. I spread my fingers out on the table, stilling the flutter of nerves in my stomach. I lifted up one hand and began picking at my nails; my nervous tick.

There was a loud buzz and the door was opened. I fought the urge to snap up and look. I needed to remain calm. The foot falls approaching me were heavy against the floor. I glanced up at the man approaching me and was shocked. He made a show of stopping and checking me out. I pursed my lips. He was openly eyeing me up. _Was I considered a threat?_ Finally he let his gaze leave mine and sat down across from me.

I leaned backwards, trying to remain a safe distance away. My heart was pounding in my chest and I prayed that my fear wasn't obvious on my face. The man sitting across from me was the complete opposite of Happy. Where Happy's eyes were deep black pooling pits, this man's were blue as a bright spring day. He had fair skin that was bleached from the Californian sun. His hair was an equal mix of old age and the colour of fresh snow on a northern winter morning.

There was, _however_ , one thing that this man and my inmate shared, their hostility. Happy's was more a steel quiet like that of a scorpion, striking when you least expected it. Where this man's was reminiscent of a rattlesnake, his distrust loud and obvious.

" _Jesus_." I hissed.

The man glared at me.

"Are you all this intimidating?" I asked.

He chose to ignore me, "Elle? I assume."

I nodded, "Yeah."

My parents always taught me to be polite, but for life of me I couldn't muster up the 'pleased to meet you' opening I'd had trained into me from day one. There was something about this white haired man that proved it would be a useless gesture.

"A journalist…" He started, waiting for me to continue.

I tilted my head, "That's what this is about? You're worried about my career choice?"

Clay eyed me weighing my response, "Why Happy?"

I widened my eyes laughing with mirth, suddenly everything clicked making sense, "You think I chose him? On purpose?"

"Why else would a journalist enlist in a program set up in a prison – _this prison_?" Clay countered.

I shook my head, "Did you ever think that maybe I was just trying to do something nice. I signed up for a _pen-pal_ program. Maybe I thought the inmate I'd been paired with was someone who just needed to talk, have their story told as it were."

Clay stared at me, intrigue in his eyes. It creeped me out how he looked at me like I was a piece of meat he was chewing, deciding if he would spit it out or not. I wasn't just some meek woman he could push around. _Was I scared?_ Maybe so, but that didn't give these men the permission to treat me poorly.

I scoffed, "Of all the things he could take out of our meetings, he takes me being a journalist to be what matters the most."

"What do you know about us?" Clay quizzed.

"Us?" I shook my head, "Who's us?"

Clay raised an eyebrow, "What do you know about Happy?"

I let out a huff, "You mean besides his last name? Nothing. The man doesn't _fucking_ talk. He sits there in silence staring at everyone but me."

Clay let out a rough laugh and I shot him a glare, "That's Happy for ya."

There was a small pause between us. I was still stuck on Clay's question about 'us'. _Who were they?_ Clearly they'd thought I was paired with Happy on purpose which meant that they had to be part of something prominent. It was in my nature to question; dig deep and find those hidden truths. They say curiosity killed the cat but I just couldn't keep the questions to myself. I was sitting with a man who had all the answers.

"I'm probably sticking my foot in my mouth here but," I dragged out the word, "who is us?"

Clay raised an eyebrow in thought while I watched him decide if I was worth the trouble. I tried a different approach. Being a journalist you learned how to appeal to all types of people.

I shrugged, "I'm not trying to pry or anything but you've intrigued me. Happy is quite a character, but too quiet. _You_ however, are a man of power. That much is obvious. You hold all the answers to my questions."

I was laying it on really thick and I could see that he knew exactly what I was doing.

"Flattery will only get you so far." He commented.

I smiled, a small laugh escaping, "You caught me."

I felt my heart rate slow actually enjoying the banter I'd started up with this new inmate. I was starting to think I had a problem. Maybe there was something wrong with me. _Why did I suddenly enjoy the company of criminals?_

"The Sons of Anarchy. A motorcycle club." He finally gave way.

I lifted my eyebrows, I'd heard the name before. Nothing more than a mention here and there of a notorious biker gang.

"So you drive Harley's?" I asked.

He nodded, "You've heard of us."

"Not really. I've heard the name before, but I don't know anything about biker gangs." I commented.

The hostility came back full force, "We're a club. Of motorcycle enthusiasts."

I held my hands up in surrender, "Woah. Sorry, wrong choice of words."

His glower eventually faded. I toyed with the idea of asking to do my piece on these men. I didn't know much about them and would need to do research but going from Happy to Clay, these were men of extremes; all different in ranges. I had an insatiable need to know more.

"Alright…" I started, "This is definitely a long shot but I can't not ask." I paused.

Clay leaned back in his chair, waiting for my question.

I took a deep breath, "Would you be willing to let me do a piece on your club?"

His eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, clearly weighing the pros and cons of my proposition.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself, Elle." He stated, not in question but instead as a command.

I tilted my head, confused but indulged him, "I'm twenty-six. I did my undergrad in Photography at USF and am in the last leg of my Masters of Photojournalism at Berkeley. I grew up in Oakland with my parents and older brother. I live alone, which I'm sure you already know, in a large studio apartment in Berkeley." I stopped to gauge his response. He didn't say anything so I continued, "I like wine, maybe a little too much. I don't generally party, I'm a homebody. I like baking and spend a lot of my spare time trying new recipes."

He raised a hand and I stopped, "Why?"

I raised one eyebrow, "Why am I asking? It's why I signed up for the program. I need something out of the norm. I need to make a name for myself. All great journalists immerse themselves in the unknown. Learning and living like those in their stories. Convicts always have a story to tell."

He nodded, "I like you." I smiled but he continued, "Before we make any kind of arrangement, I want to see your work. I also need to talk to the rest of the boys – _bring it to the table_ – we need to vote on this."

I clapped my hands together, "Not a problem. I can bring you some snippets of my old pieces."

He shook his head, "No. Not good enough. I want you to take pictures of the boys on the outside."

"O.K." I said slowly.

It was obvious why he was making the request. He wanted to see if I'd paint them in a bad way to the media. I could step up to the challenge. To be honest, I had every right to slander them because of how they'd treated me, but I didn't want to ruin my chances at getting the best story.

"Teller-Morrow Automotive, Charming, California." He spoke, "That's where we all work. I'll tell the other's to expect you this week."

I nodded, "Perfect. I have a free day on Friday. I can drive out then."

"Good. I'll put the word out. I expect to see you back here Wednesday." He intoned.

I stood up, wanting to get a leg up on my research, "I'll be here."

He winked as I walked to exit, "I'll tell Hap you say hi. Maybe even tell him you'll see him later?"

I shot him an amused glare but said nothing. I was still pissed at the other inmate. He'd treated me like a bag of dirt. If he thought I'd being seeing him on Sunday, he was delusional.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Friday rolled around quicker than I expected. I googled the address to the shop when I was within the city limits. I knew of the little township, but never been there. I'd spent all day Thursday doing a lot of research on the Sons of Anarchy. There was a lot of negative media surrounding them, violence, guns, etc… but for one negative tabloid there were ten positive ones. They did a lot of charity rides and supported local businesses. They were protective of Charming.

The town was quaint, and it was weird not see a Starbucks on every corner, or a typical strip mall with the chain of familiar stores. If you wanted to go somewhere like Walmart you needed to drive over to Lodi, the nearest town. Even the grocery store was a local business, not part of a conglomerate. I drove through the wide streets of Charming, admiring the uniqueness that not many places still had. I passed Main Street loving the little boutiques, like Floyd's Barbershop.

As I turned the corner I was greeted by what looked like an industrial area. There was a large chain link gate opened and I slowed down as I got closer. I peered up the drive and saw the large Teller-Morrow Automotive sign. I turned into the compound, finding a parking space. I turned the car off shoving the keys into my jeans pocket and lifting the strap of my bag over my neck and shoulder. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I didn't know what I was walking into. I didn't know what these people were like. I wasn't stupid, I knew their club was just a front for being a gang.

I didn't want to be prejudiced or judgemental. I'd always practiced the 'be kind to everyone' mantra but knowing these were the men who'd broken into my home caused for caution. There was also the need I had to prove myself to Clay. I needed this story, I needed to show I wasn't going to negatively impact them. I wanted to educate Americans. I wanted a real story, and I wanted something with substance. This was my chance to make a name for myself. I walked around my car my camera, a Canon Rebel, strap wrapped around the palm of my hand. The first I noticed was the line of sparkling Harley's.

"Wow." I uttered out loud.

They were stunning. I'd seen motorcycles before but these were different. You could tell that these men cared for their vehicles with more than just love. It was obsession. Without consciously realizing what I was doing, I'd made my way closer to the bikes. I reached a hand out attempting to touch one when I was interrupted.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A condescending voice echoed around me.

I jerked my hand back to me and glanced up. Standing a few feet away from me was a fierce looking woman. She had dark sunglasses covering her eyes and one hand on her hip. Her other arm hanging out with a hand bag looped over her forearm.

I extended my hand to her, "Elle."

She raised an eyebrow staring at my hand but didn't budge, "I figured." She stared pointedly at the camera in my other hand.

I let my arm fall, a nervous itch in the middle of my palm. If I could make any assumptions it would be that she was connected to Clay in a romantic measure. She seemed to be a perfect fit for him, just as commanding.

"Sorry…" I apologized, "About the bikes. They're just so pretty."

The woman cracked a smile, something I didn't think she knew how to do.

"I wouldn't let any of the boys hear you call their Harley's _pretty_." She commented.

I laughed out loud my nerves getting the better of me. We stood across from other another for a minute the laughter dying out.

"I guess it's safe to assume Clay told you I'd be coming." I spoke.

She nodded lifting her sunglasses into her hair. I couldn't help but stare. This woman was beautiful and I was sure that wasn't a word many would describe her as. It was hard to get past the intense first impression she gave off. Her bone structure was well defined and sharp. It gave her even more of an edge. It was clear by the way she held herself that she reigned. She was the Queen.

"You're stunning." I remarked.

She titled her head at me, assessing me. I felt like I was under an x-ray, as if she could see everything about me.

She gave an agreeing pout and introduced herself, "Gemma. I see why Clay likes you."

"Nice to meet you. I'm still not sure why he agreed to this in the first place but I'm willing to work hard to prove myself." I paused giving myself a second to catch up and then asked, "Would you mind if I took a picture of you? You don't have to pose or anything, just go about your business, I'll remain in the background."

"Sure but let's introduce you to the boys first." She turned and led the way away from the shop and to a door behind the line of bikes.


	6. You Had Me From the Start

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017**

 **Playlist:** _What Do You Mean? - Justin Bieber_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/SOA own SOA

* * *

I hesitated as Gemma held the door open for me. To left – _on the wall_ – there was a huge rendition of a Reaper. Their logo was literally death. I gulped, transfixed on the image and questioning my damned sanity. I felt Gemma's gaze on me and I snapped back to reality. This wasn't the time to have a meltdown. I took a calming breath, showing Gemma that I wasn't about to cut and run. She waited. I forced my feet forward and followed in behind her.

"This is the clubhouse." She explained, "The Chapel is behind those doors there," She turned back to me, seeing the question forming in my mind, "That's where they have their meetings and place votes."

I nodded absently gazing around the room. To my left was a stripper's pole, in the corner a pool table and directly to my right was a bar. Behind the bar was a larger man. His glasses were thick and seemed a bit grubby. His hair was run-of-the-mill brown, with distinct curls and his beard practically covered his entire face and neck.

"Phil – this is Elle." Gemma introduced me to the man behind the counter.

I held out my hand. He glanced at it, then up to Gemma and back to my hand. I heard the shuffle of Gemma's clothing which indicated she'd crossed her arms, waiting to gauge the reaction but not giving any advice.

"Nice to meet you." I offered, seeing if that would make him open up a bit more.

He dropped the rag in his hand, and reached out to take mine.

"Uh-uh," A friendly voice sounded from behind him, "You know the rules. No women for prospects."

Phil – _or prospect as I just learned_ – dropped his hand, grabbing the rag and continuing on with his work. I leaned to the side, searching for the source of the voice. A sturdy man with wispy spikes in his light blond hair was smiling openly at me. He was leaning with one elbow on the bar, one ankle crossed over the other. He checked me out for a moment and I fought the urge to recoil. I didn't like how every man I'd met from this club had blatantly checked me out. The least they could do was be subtle.

He turned to Gemma, "No one said she'd be cute."

Gemma chuckled and dropped her purse down on the bar. She moved to stand next to the man who'd been talking about me, but not too me. How rude. I was right here. He acknowledged me in such a back handed way I wanted to slap him.

My nostrils flared, " _She's_ standing right here."

"Oh ho! We've got a feisty one." A new thick burr came from the direction where Gemma had been standing previously.

I hadn't noticed but while I was busy regarding the blond in front of me, the doors to the 'Chapel' had opened and an older man, middle aged I guessed, came out. His hair was dark but peppered with white strands throughout. I nearly backed away from him as he advanced.

I never thought it was possible, but this man might scare me more than Happy just from looks alone. He had two identical scars on his cheeks. It was like someone thought it'd be funny if they permanently knifed a smile into his face. He noticed the falter in my resolve.

"Don't worry 'bout them, lass" he pointed to his scars, "Thing o' the past."

My eyes widened, nearly popping out of my head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't stare. It's not polite."

The crowd around me burst into loud laughter. I was frozen in embarrassment. They had the strangest reactions to situations. I really didn't know what I'd gotten myself into. Maybe if I booked it through the door they'd just let me go. The man with the scars came closer, clapping me on my shoulder.

"You'd be the first person to ever try." He chuckled.

"Well – I…" I stuttered, unsure of how to respond.

When I thought about my initial reaction to him I knew it was uncalled for. He'd done nothing to cause my panic. It was a snap judgement and I shouldn't have allowed myself fall prey to it. I was starting to see how an outsider viewed these men. Maybe they weren't all bad. At least they'd been alright with me… if you excluded the whole breaking into my apartment thing. The man with the scars sat on the stool in front of me.

"Chibs." He introduced.

I stared at him trying to discern what had just come out of his mouth. _Was he speaking English?_ I sighed. Today was going to be an embarrassing day all around for me.

"I'm sorry." I expressed, "In order to make myself look less like an idiot, I have to ask. I hate that I have too but what did you just say?"

He smiled, "Chibs." His voice slow and steady, "It's my name."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Scotland, originally." He answered.

I gravitated towards the man, "Wow… Really? What's it like over there? Must be so different being here in California. How long have you been here? Why did you come over? Do you miss home?"

I asked question after question without taking a breath almost nose to nose with the Scotsman. My reaction had caused him to laugh even harder than before. I felt a hand land on my shoulder and the blond pulled me backwards.

"Cool it spit-fire." He said, "I doubt you want a history lesson from the old man."

I shook the man's hand off of me and lifted an eyebrow with attitude, "Oh, _excuse me_. I wasn't aware we were talking now. Y'know, instead of talking _about_ me."

"Damn Koz! What'd you do to piss her off?" Another voice from the door called out.

A tall man with long dirty blond hair tied into a bun, and an even longer beard had sauntered into the clubhouse. Koz, or the rude one, had backed off, a smirk on his face.

The taller man reached me and introduced himself, "Opie."

"Elle." I smiled.

Opie turned to Gemma, "Gem, Lyla was wondering if you wouldn't mind asking Neeta to watch the kids. She's been called in to do a last minute shoot."

Gemma regarded the tall man with motherly concern clouding her eyes. Without saying anything at all, they'd communicated with each other.

The tall man lifted his shoulders in defeat, "Few more months and we'll be married. No more porn for her."

My eyebrows shot up in alarm at the new information and I fought to keep the absolute shock off my face. _Porn! Had I heard that correctly? This guy was engaged to a porn star? And they had kids? Ohmygod_! It took me a minute but I was able to school my features back into indifference.

However the blond caught my reaction and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Legitimate business."

All my original trepidation towards this man disappeared as I processed it all.

I drifted closer to him, matching his tone, "For real? You guys own porn stars?"

He chuckled, "You make it sound like they're property."

I pulled back, realizing the judgement in my comment, "Shit. I didn't mean it like that." I rubbed a hand down my face, "Ugh! I'm making a right fool of myself today."

"You're not that bad, considering. Just don't let any of the girls hear you say things like that." He winked.

"Oi!" Chibs yelled, "What're you two whispering about over there?"

The two of us jumped at the interruption and faced Chibs. Gemma was standing close by, watching us both with a stern face. Her lips were pursed and it made me think she'd been watching our entire exchange. I could feel the hostility flowing from her towards me. It was like she didn't want me trespassing in their little 'club'. I would have to err on the side of caution around her.

"Filling in the WASP on a few of our business ventures." The blond answered.

I snorted, "I'm not anything close to as high a status white girl as you think. I grew up in Oakland."

He waved me off, "Close enough."

"What's your name, anyways?" I asked. "Everyone else introduced themselves except you."

He turned to me and nearly blinded me with his megawatt smile, "Kozik."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to tell me a little more. It dawned on me that each person I was introduced too only went by one name, and in most cases, I assumed they were nicknames.

"Just Kozik? Who are you, Madonna? Or maybe the gender bending Prince?" I joked.

Kozik gave me a feigned hurt grimace but joined in the laughter of the other two men. I smiled, pleased with myself. I was easing myself in. If they all remained this pleasant I could probably enjoy this project.

Gemma cut our bonding moment short, "Alright. Let's get this done with." She directed her gaze at me, "Where do you want to start?"

I shrugged, "Was there anything you guys had planned for today? I could tag along and snap a few shots."

Chibs made the suggestion, "Cara Cara?"

Opie and Kozik nodded. I flicked my head between the three men trying to discern what Cara Cara was.

"Uhm, what's Cara Cara?" I questioned.

Kozik wrapped one arm around my shoulders, steering me outside, "Well Harvard, Cara Cara happens to be the porn studio that we co-own."

I screwed up my face, "Harvard?"

Kozik shrugged, his arm falling away from me as we reached the row of motorcycles, "You didn't like WASP."

I was astounded that he thought that explanation was enough to explain his disregard for my actual name. He straddled his bike, fastened his helmet and turned the ignition on his bike.

I held out my hands in protest, "Really?"

He pointed to his ears, pretending he couldn't hear, "What?"

I cringed, his voice was louder than it needed to be. I rolled my eyes, walking over to my car, preparing to follow the three men to wherever this porn studio was. I couldn't believe that he thought that giving me a nickname was a good idea or that his explanation for the one he chose was good enough as an understanding. I didn't like either of his suggestions. My name was only four letters long and easy to pronounce. I never really liked nor understood nicknames. I'd just have to drill into him my name. Make him forget all about his silly new terms for me.

On a completely other note, I was going to a real live porn studio. Every red flag I possessed was waving, but I couldn't not go. I was one female willingly following three large and muscular bikers. I shook my head as I pulled out behind the three bikes. I had a death wish… or maybe a 'missing person's' wish. I snickered to myself I wonder how I'd call home and tell mom and dad about this one.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I was ushered into the visiting hall. There were a few inmates scattered around the room, visiting with what I was assuming were family members, or maybe even lawyers. After being subject to the fifth degree of questioning and having all my belongings searched through, the guards allowed me in the room with the hefty manila envelope. I set the package on the table, debating whether I should reveal the contents yet or wait until Clay was brought in.

The chance to mull it over cut short due to the President of the Sons of Anarchy being buzzed into the room. I glanced up at the man coming towards me and offered a cordial smile. I was excited. Friday last week yielded amazing results. I'd fallen in love with the pictures I shot and couldn't wait to show them off. They were some of my best. He smirked back as he settled down across from me.

"I take it you had a good day Friday?" He opened.

I nodded, "Yeah. Thanks for letting me introduce myself. I think you guys really have something."

I slid the envelope across the table to him. He laid one of his thick hands on it assessing my passion. It was clear that I was proud of my work, but he still seemed unsure of how I'd characterize their 'club'. I widened my eyes in impatience nearly bouncing out of my seat. Clay grinned at my eagerness and flipped the pouch. He pulled out the dozen 8 by 10 stills I'd developed.

I'd taken about two dozen pictures but decided on this final dozen for him to appraise. I studied his face as he flipped through the pictures, pausing to view each one in detail. My knee bopped up and down constantly, giving away my restlessness. When he was finished he laid out the pictures on the table in front of us, singling out two in particular.

The first one he brought to my attention was my favourite of the bunch. I'd coerced Opie, Chibs and Kozik to stand in front of the clubhouse doors, while I crouched off to the side of the line of motorcycles. I'd taken a picture of the three of them trying not to laugh, all with smirks on their faces. The shine of each motorcycle illuminated the scene and the Reaper emblem was at the center. I purposely printed this still in greyscale, emphasizing the power of the statement I was making.

The other one he laid out was one I knew he'd be drawn too. It was a picture of Gemma. She was standing just outside the office of TM on her cell phone. She had one hand rested on the side of her sunglasses, having just placed them onto her face. The sharp angles of her face were more pronounced in the sunlight, casting dark shadows along her edges. She looked all powerful doing something as mundane as answering a call.

I gazed at the picture, unable to keep from grinning, "That's one of my favourites. Gemma is a beautiful woman. Perfect for portraits."

He gazed at me for a full minute, a bit shell shocked at my use of the word beautiful.

I chuckled, "I realize that's not a word most people would use and I don't use it in the typical sense. She's intense; passionate, and that reflects in her body language. That's what makes her attractive."

Clay sat backwards his eyes still on the photos. I forced my leg still pushing my palms down on either of my thighs. This was it. This was the moment he'd tell me yes or no. I was really hoping he'd agree. After spending the day in Charming I wanted to know everything. I _needed_ to know their stories. Every single one of them. I'd spent the entire weekend working out an entire storyboard on how I'd work this project. I knew exactly what I wanted from them, all I needed now what the final ok. I took a deep breath, waiting.

"I'll admit, I didn't think this would pan out." He started, "I figured you'd run scared."

I remained silent, holding all questions to myself.

"However, these aren't what I was expecting. You have a real talent here, sweetheart." I cringed at his use of the word, my dislike for pet names skyrocketing, "What do you have in mind?"

I had to replay his words three times in my head before realizing what he was asking.

"Is that a yes, then?" I confirmed.

He nodded, "Tentatively. I want to know what your plan is."

"Yes!" I clapped my hands down on the table. He chuckled at my enthusiasm, "Alright, I've thought a bit about this and I'm going to need to follow you guys around for a while. I don't need to know the ins and outs of everything but I want to depict you as you are. A brotherhood. I was thinking to get it started, you and the boys inside could write your own brief biographies. Nothing specific, more general about why and how you became a part of the Sons of Anarchy. Also for the purpose of this project, I'm going to deliberately leave your names out. Possibly choose new ones; easy ones, that everyday people can identify with."

I stopped talking, adrenaline rushing through my body at my excitement. Clay nodded, a thoughtful pout on his lips.

"Are you all in?" He questioned.

I frowned, "I'm not sure I know what you mean, but I'm invested. This is exactly the kind of report I was looking for. The narrative I have planned for you is to show the masses that their fear is misguided, that although you may be criminals, for crimes I care not about, you are also family men, taking care of your own."

His eyebrows raised at my tiny rant, "I can get behind that."

"You agree? To the whole thing?" I assured, giddy with the chance I was being granted.

He nodded, "Yeah." I nearly squealed with elation but he stopped me, "But, you'll be on a strict need to know basis."

I grinned, showing all my teeth, "No problem. Honestly it's probably for the better that I don't know everything. Keeps me objective to the cause."

He chuckled, "Alright, it's a deal."

"Perfect." I was glad that I'd been able to secure this piece, knowing that I'd be able to put a different spin on the myths of bikers in America.

As I processed all the information I came back to the realization that I'd need to meet with Happy again. I groaned, slumping down in my seat a little.

"Just realized you'll need to start coming back to see Hap?" Clay laughed.

I sighed, "Yeah. Well… I guess have whoever you can write down their accounts. Give them to Happy and I'll come on Sunday and collect them."

The guard at the door struck the window with his baton, signalling that visitation was over. Clay stood up, his hand brushing the picture of Gemma one more time.

I smiled, "I'll frame that one for you."

He pulled his hand back surprised that I noticed his pause. He nodded before turning and leaving. I packed the photos back together, sliding them into the envelope and making my way to the exit. Sunday was going to be crappy. I didn't particularly want to see Happy again, but he was my only means of getting the information I needed from the men behind bars. I was apprehensive because the man had done nothing but terrify me. I couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of mood he'd be in once he learned about the agreement between Clay and I.

I collected my belongings from the front office, leaving the facility. I walked out into the bright shine of midday California sun. I pushed my sunglasses on over my eyes. Maybe I could start over with Happy, now that I knew a little bit more about his club. I'd come back on Sunday with a new attitude, shove away my fear and try to get to know the man.


	7. I Can Keep A Secret, Can You?

**A/N: Edited 8-12-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Cool for the Summer - Demi Lovato_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

He was laying back in his bunk – his feet were crossed and his hands folded over one another behind his head. It was Saturday night. Tomorrow morning he'd be meeting with the journalist again. He would never admit it aloud, and had an even harder time admitting it to himself, but he'd felt guilty about their previous interactions. He never meant to scare the girl off. He was only issuing a warning; a demand being demonstrated.

When that next Sunday rolled around he couldn't say he was surprised when she was a no show. What he didn't like was the way it made him feel. He could almost say he'd been lost – at a loss of his routine. She'd messed up what he'd become used too. Although he couldn't fault her for running scared, that didn't mean he hadn't been livid that she'd avoided him for two weeks in a row. That anger was amplified after learning she'd gone to see Clay – _not once, but twice_ – and still hadn't come back to see him.

To add insult to injury, he learned through Clay, that she'd be coming back to see him tomorrow, to continue with some sort of project she'd proposed to the President. Clay hadn't given anyone details about their arrangement but he had two folded letters stuffed under his pillow that he'd be handing over in the morning. Clay explained that she wanted them to write an account about what had drawn them to the Sons of Anarchy. He scoffed that request alone exemplified how much she didn't understand about who they were.

He rolled his eyes. He was beyond frustrated that he was still lying awake at what he could only assume was three in the morning. He wasn't sure why this woman was getting under his skin. There wasn't anything exceptionally special about her. She was a yuppie dabbling with the commoners. She'd been uptight and was clearly out of her comfort zone. He thought if Clay gave him more information he'd be able to get a better read on the girl, but he was an enforcer. Execute now, ask questions later. His title as an Unholy One wasn't just a job, it was who he was as a person. He'd always complete the task given first and then figure out where his moral compass laid in an afterthought.

This woman…. Elle, as Clay had introduced her as, was someone that weighed on his mind. He knew her name – _of course_ – but he'd never used it, due to the fact that he wasn't trying to become familiar with her. Even thinking her name irked him. It felt wrong, like it made her too real. He rubbed a hand down his face in exhaustion, all he wanted to do was sleep.

He spread out, stretching his long limbs. He shifted his head from left and then to the right, cracking out the kinks developing. He rolled over onto his side, sliding one hand under his flat pillow. There was a rustle as his arm brushed against one of the letters. He shut his eyes, annoyed at the fact that his brothers were playing into this 'story'. _Why was Clay giving her the freedom to examine them?_ He didn't like the position he'd been thrust into.

He didn't know when sleep finally took over, but he did remember that the last thing he pictured was the sarcastic motion she made with her finger, the last time she'd visited, seductively sliding along her lower lip.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

My heart was racing while I waited for each inmate to file into the room. My fingers were entwined together, clinging to the last semblance of calm I could muster. I didn't know what to expect coming back here. This was a man who'd been nothing but unfriendly towards me. My resolve from the meeting with Clay disappeared on the drive in this morning. I don't know why I thought I'd be able to turn over a new leaf. I was still awfully afraid of the man.

I listened for the shuffle of feet in the room around me. I was deliberately staring down at the table in front of me. There was no way I'd be able to stay calm if I'd met the eyes of my inmate. I knew, beyond any doubt, that he'd show up. Clay wouldn't allow him not to come, and there was no way they could send someone else in his stead. I shivered visibly, cursing myself for the slip up. I wasn't ready for this. I should probably leave but there was no way I was going to let Happy win this battle of wills. He was probably furious that he'd have to meet with me again, after I'd not to subtlety evaded him.

The distinct footsteps approaching my table echoed within my eardrums. I took a sharp breath in, holding it. All the while talking myself down from bolting out the door and into the general population of the prison. From the corner of my eyes I saw him approach, his lower body perpendicular to mine. He turned and one hand grabbed the top of the metal chair. He dragged it backwards, causing an irritating scrape along the floor. I let out the breath I was holding and inch by inch raised my head, leveling my eyesight with his.

I was careful to keep all emotion from my facial features, not wanting to approach the situation with any kind of presumptions. His face mirrored mine in that it was completely blank. Maybe I'd learned a thing or two from him in our brief meetings. I slipped my hands off the table and into my lap. I adjusted in my seat, signalling that I was uncomfortable in more ways than one.

Without taking his eyes off of me, he reached around behind him, tugged something from the waist band of his pants and dropped two folded papers on the table between us. My fingers twitched, wanting to grab the letters right away. Unable to stop the expression, the edge of my lips tugged into a smile. There was one question hanging in the front of my mind, one that I knew I shouldn't ask, but one that I was going to anyway. I never specified that they name themselves in their profiles, but I figured some might. If I picked up the letters, I'd be able to decipher who'd written me, if those names were there but I couldn't help it. Curiosity really did kill the cat.

"Did you…?" I trailed off, a tiny hope that he wouldn't hear me.

"No." His answer was curt and distant.

I furrowed my brow, "You're mad."

It wasn't a question. By the look on his face I could tell he wasn't pleased with the arrangement made. Of course, he didn't need to speak to let me know he wasn't at peace with the deal I'd made. An unfortunate side effect of our visits had resulted in my intuition being heightened around him. Able to decipher most of his facial expressions.

"Why?" I couldn't help but ask.

I knew he wouldn't answer but the question came out before I could think realistically.

"It's none of your business." He spoke, surprising me that he'd even bothered.

"What isn't? Your story? Or everyone else's?" I leaned forward studying his reactions.

He shook his head, "You have no business getting involved with us."

"From a personal stand point, or are you speaking for the whole of your club?" I quipped, diligent in using the proper term for them.

I learned to be mindful of the words I used around these men. He regarded me in a thoughtful manner, noticing the use of the word club, not gang.

"You're smart… I'll give you that." He commented.

I shrugged, "You still haven't answered me."

He regarded me in a manner that caused me to back away, cautious that he might strike me regardless of the 'no touching' rule. He was silent in his seething. I wasn't sure why my presence was bothering him to such a degree. We'd barely even spoken. I knew coming back I was sure to receive a gamut of different emotions, but I honestly hadn't thought he'd be _this_ mad. Opting to diffuse the situation rather than fueling the fire, I chose to cease questioning him, against my better nature.

I sighed, "Lucky for you, you don't have to talk to me."

I reached forward, grasping the letters. He studied my every move in a rigid stance. His feet were firmly planted, exactly shoulder length apart and his arms were folded across his chest. At a glance he seemed aloof, but I could see the hard-lined posture he was set it. He looked practiced, like he used this particular position often. I let my eyes linger on him for a second more, before bringing my attention to focus on the first of the two papers.

I scanned over the document, catching a few key words, ones that I could use to emphasize the piece. Love, compassion, family… Other terms you'd never associate with men of their caliber. Reading the two letters took up the rest of our time together. Happy never shifting from his rigid stance. The guard at the door called out ending the session, telling the men to say goodbye. Happy took no time in pushing his chair back and standing.

I glanced up at him watching as he waited while the other prisoners before him filed out into the hall. I was reclined against the back of my chair, head resting on my shoulder as I zoned out, a little put off by the fact that Happy wasn't cooperating. If there was anyone whose story I was interested in, it was his. He was the perfect subject, from a journalist's point of view. Volatile; equipped with a silent poison that was saturated in natural fear. He intrigued me. More than I cared to admit. I was still utterly terrified of the man. You'd have assumed that us being paired would allow for me to access some of that steely reserve.

I sighed mumbling to myself, "It's too bad… you being _my_ inmate and all…."

In my glazed over eyes, I registered as his body stiffened. His entire body pivoted towards me, a strange look across his face. I pulled my eyebrows in together, puzzled by his expression.

"What did you call me?" He questioned, his voice in a breathy rasp.

I pursed my lips having not noticed I'd spoken that last bit out loud. My delayed reaction hit me full force when I realized what I just referred to him as. I clenched my teeth, my cheeks flaring with heat.

"I… Uh-nothing." I bent my head, allowing my hair to cover my face, hiding from the man before me.

 _How could I be that stupid?_ I was more embarrassed about the fact that I'd spoken my thoughts out loud, than possession I'd expressed over him. I felt his presence pause, standing close. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that he'd just leave and forget I'd said anything at all. Time stood still, the movement around me slowing down.

I peered up at the man, through the veil of my hair, finding him frozen in an emotion I couldn't readily identify. Somehow I'd shattered that calloused resolve. I lifted my head in his direction, my hair falling back from my face. I watched as he clenched his fists several times, his jaw hinged. I opened my mouth to ask him what his problem was but he spun around, tearing through the room and out the door.

I let out a breath, feeling as though I'd been winded. _What was that about?_ He went from being his normal hostile self to a murderous animal on the verge of attack. _How had my small slip up gained that type of reaction?_ I dropped my forehead down on the table, counting down the time until they were released. I didn't think I would be able to continue coming every week.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I found myself within the city limits of Charming, without any direction from Clay. He'd given me the go ahead for my piece which meant getting to know the others. The ones on the outside. Sitting on my passenger side seat was a wrapped frame. I put a large obnoxious bow in the corner. I figured it was a good faith gesture for Gemma. Showing my support to their cause. Proving that I wasn't here to screw them over. I drove up the drive, parking my car as far away from the line of Harley's as possible. I made my way over to the office. Before reaching the door I heard that upbeat voice.

"Harvard?" I turned to see Kozik donned in a blue mechanic's uniform, "What're you doing here?"

I grinned at him, tapping the wrapped frame, "Dropping off a little present."

He gazed down at the package then back to me with one eyebrow raised. I shrugged, knocking on the half opened office door and entering.

"Gemma?" I addressed the woman sitting behind the desk.

She glanced up at me over her reading glasses. Her eyes narrowed minutely but I offered her a sweet smile. I placed the present on the edge of her desk.

"This is really for Clay. I promised I'd have it framed," I paused, "But, I thought you might appreciate the beauty of the subject in the photo."

Her eyes narrowed more visibly this time reaching for the package. She flipped it upside down, using one finger to break the seal of the scotch tape. The brown packing crinkled as she folded it away from the contents, pulling the mahogany frame out. She turned it back around to her and hesitated. I perched on the arm of the couch, waiting for her reaction.

I was smart enough to know that in order to fully gain acceptance within the Sons of Anarchy, I needed to appeal to Gemma's motherly nature. If there was any way to fast track that affection, it was to compliment the matriarch by snapshotting my intent for her. She licked her teeth, thinking of a response. She brought her gaze back to mine and I watched as a tentative smile graced her hardened face.

"You have talent." She granted.

"Well remember, it's not for you. It's for Clay. He liked that one the best." I reminded.

She placed the picture down on her desk, pulled out the bottom drawer and grabbed her purse, "Any plans for lunch?"

I shook my head, "Nope."

"Good. Let's go." She strode out of the office with me hot on her heels.

I grinned inwardly to myself. This was my in. Now that Gemma was in my court, I'd be free to roam within the charter. I climbed into Gemma's Lincoln, catching Kozik's eye as we drove out of the compound. He seemed interested to see Gemma taking me out with her. It was obvious she wasn't very welcoming of outsider's and I'd gained a little trust in her way. I flashed a toothy grin at Kozik, winking as we turned the corner.


	8. It Was A Crush

**A/N: Edited 8-13-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Lush Life - Zara Larsson_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

"Elle!" a feminine voice called after me.

I turned to see a gorgeous, tall legged blonde striding towards me. I squinted for a second, trying to recall where I'd seen her before. Oh, that's right. She was Opie's fiancée. The porn star. I stopped, waiting for the petite woman to catch up.

"Lyla, right?" I greeted her.

She smiled a little out of breath, "Yup."

"I gotta get back to SanFran." I explained as I started walking to my car.

I beckoned her to follow me. Her steps fell in with mine as we walk side by side to my car.

"I saw the picture you took of Gemma." She commented.

I nodded, "Yeah?"

She flipped her hair over one shoulder, the multiple bangles on her wrist clanging together, "It's a stunning photo. I hadn't realized you were so talented."

I chuckled, "I've been hearing that a lot lately."

She matched my grin, "I was wondering…. Would you be available to shoot my wedding?"

I reached the driver's side door and looked across the roof at her, stunned. I wasn't expecting that. I figured she probably came over here to intimidate me, tell me to stay away from Opie. Y'know, the regular motions of what the women around here went through when another woman came around. After having lunch with Gemma a few months ago, I'd been invited to spend a lot more time in Charming. Gemma had even gone as far as welcoming me to their Sunday dinners. I declined each week only because Kozik was starting to get fairly friendly with me and I didn't want to lead him on. I had an end game. A mission. I couldn't get involved with one of my subjects.

Even though I kept my visits limited, and during the day time, the crow eaters and porn stars were incredibly wary of me. They didn't like my constant presence around the Sons. They felt like I was encroaching on their territory.

"Seriously?" I blurted out.

She nodded with enthusiasm, "Honestly. I've been searching for a photographer, but no one wants to shoot a Sons of Anarchy wedding. You'd be surprised how fast people run when they hear who I'm marrying."

"Oh, I hadn't realized. I figured anyone from around here would jump at the chance." I said.

She shrugged, "Yeah, you'd think. So… Will you?"

I paused, unsure if the Sons would want me at such an intimate event, "Have you talked to Opie?"

She laughed, "Of course. All the guys are on board. They really like you." She winked, "Especially Kozik."

I deliberately ignored her comment about Kozik, not wanting to open that can of worms but I thought about her proposition. It would be a great addition to my piece. However it was putting me in a position that could be a potential risk. I'd be at an intimate gathering, a union of one of their own. I gazed at Lyla, sympathetic to her predicament. All she wanted was someone to document the happiest day of her life.

"Please." She pleaded.

"Oh, alright." I agreed, "I'll do it free of charge if you'll let me use some of the pictures for my project."

She squealed, running around my car and wrapping her arms around me, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I gave her a tentative hug back, "Don't mention it."

She let go and backed away, "I can't wait to tell Ope." She turned on her heel, waving a farewell, "Thanks Elle."

I waved back before slipping into the car. This was a great opportunity for me. I'd have to be careful the whole night but it would prove to be a great addition to my piece. Although that meant I'd have to pull out my professional equipment. Either way, I was up to the task.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I was balancing three large research books, an envelope of newly printed pictures, and my binder full of notes, in my arms while simultaneously rummaging through the open pocket in my bag for my keys. I leaned against my door for leverage, a huff of impatience escaping as I still couldn't locate my keys. At the least opportune moment, my cellphone's annoying trill began to blast through my sweater pocket.

"Ugh!" I grunted in irritation.

I finally hooked my fingers around my keys, yanking them out of my bag. I jammed the key into the lock, turning until the click of home free echoed. I pushed the door open with my foot and waddled in trying with all my might to balance everything. My phone had stopped ringing for three seconds before starting back up again.

"I'm coming!" I grumbled to myself as I dropped everything down on the kitchen counter.

I ripped my phone out of my pocket pressing the green button to answer, "Yeah?"

"No need for the attitude, baby girl." Gemma greeted.

I groaned, I should've checked the caller id before answering.

"Sorry Gem, you just caught me at a bad time."

I could hear Gemma's overthinking through the phone, "Everything alright, baby?"

I shook my head, the pet names they threw around were ridiculous. Kozik was still calling me Harvard and once Gemma warmed up to me, she started referring to me as her baby, or baby girl. Chibs even had a spin on my name, calling me Ellie girl. That one in particular bothered me because Opie's daughter's name was Ellie and I wasn't a twelve year old little girl.

"Yeah, just busy with school and what not." I answered.

She chuckled into the receiver, "That's our girl. Always hard at work."

I cringed. As much as I tried to keep myself distant from the people in Charming, they somehow managed to worm their way into my heart. I was closer with Gemma than I would've liked but there was nothing to be done about it now. I had to spend more and more time there due to my part in Lyla and Opie's wedding. Lyla kept asking me to come down. Her, Tara and I would all convene and discuss her plans for the wedding, and the overall plan for what she would like me to handle. I'd grown close with the women surrounding the Sons.

Then there was Kozik. I liked the guy, I really did. He was nice, friendly and always willing to answer my questions but there was the underlying issue that he liked more than just a friend. I did everything in my power to shut him down, and he wasn't stupid, he could see that I was purposely keeping myself distant.

That's probably what caused him to push harder, trying to get to know me. I was still confused in my feelings about him. Don't get me wrong, he was hot. One of the more attractive Sons – _in my opinion_ – but something about him shouted 'brother' and not anything more.

Either way, liking Kozik or not, the entirety of my problem would lie when I finally finished the project. I couldn't squander my time in Charming if I wanted to further my career. There was travelling to be done and there were galleries to obtain. Finding the perfect placement for this project. I was still in a position where I'd be able to leave Charming behind, but it'd be a bit harder on my emotions, now that I was genuine friends with them.

"What's up, Gem?" I cut to the chase.

"Are you busy on Friday?" She asked.

I thought about her request, realizing quickly that she was trying to coerce me into attending one of their notorious Friday night parties.

"I'm not coming Gemma. You already know I'm not interested in that debauchery." I was firm in my answer.

She laughed, "Not even if I told you the boys were getting out on Thursday?"

"I-What? Already?" I stuttered.

I began counting back the number of days I'd spent going up to the prison to see Happy. _How had I not realized I wouldn't need to go back this weekend?_ Apparently school had been effecting my short-term memory.

"I see you haven't been keeping track of how many visits you and Happy had left." She commented.

I honestly wasn't sure I was ready to meet Happy outside of prison. At least while he was behind bars I could easily escape his unwarranted anger towards me. Our visits hadn't changed much since I started back seeing him. He was always silent only there to hand over the musings of his brothers.

"The crow eaters won't appreciate me being there." I tried another tactic for avoiding Charming.

I could feel the condescending glare that Gemma was no doubt shooting my way through the phone before she sighed, "How many times do I have to tell you. Don't listen to those girls. They're just a bunch of sluts waiting for one of the boys to slip up and get them pregnant."

"That's little heavy handed isn't it? They're still women, Gem." I replied.

Even though I didn't like them, they were still human beings and didn't need to be treated so harshly.

Gemma scoffed, "Get used to it baby. They ask for it by the way they present themselves."

I clamped my retort down, knowing there was no point in arguing the theme with Gemma. She'd never give up her preconceived notions.

"Clay's already told me that all the guys are looking forward to meeting you…" She added.

"You mean they're looking for a chance to try and fuck me." I snorted.

She chuckled, "Boys will be boys."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine but I'm not staying for long. I'll come, introduce myself and then be on my merry way."

I could hear the smile in her voice, "That's all we're asking. See you Friday. Party starts around 9."

"See you Friday." I repeated before hanging up.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Friday approached a lot faster than I would've liked. I really wasn't looking forward to visiting Charming. On any other day I would've had no problem making the trip, but with the knowledge that Happy was out and about, I was terrified. My stomach dropped each time I thought his name, his face seared into my memory's eye.

In order to quell my reservations about the party, I'd spent my entire afternoon choosing an outfit. I wanted something that was sexy, while still appropriate. I didn't want to be lumped in with the crow eaters. I'd settled for simplicity, something I was a master at.

I wore a loose, long sleeved white shirt, one long golden chain that had a plain triangle pendent. It rested just below my breasts. I wore my favourite dark blue faded, ripped jeans, and settled for the only heeled shoes I owned. The same pair I wore the day that Happy finally told me his name. A pair of tan boot wedges.

I left my make-up simple; some foundation, mascara, top eyeliner and peach lip gloss. There wasn't much that I could do with my hair. Curling it would be useless as it would straighten itself on the drive over. I settled for just leaving it down but making sure there was an extra hair tie on my wrist.

I was ready hours before I needed to leave so I spent the rest of the time waiting impatiently. I didn't want to be early nor did I want to end up too late, finding all the members trashed. Finally losing patience and being bored, I grabbed my keys and locked up. Luckily, I managed to wait until exactly nine o'clock before leaving. That meant I'd get there at least an hour late and hopefully – _after introductions_ – they'd be drunk enough that they wouldn't notice when I made my quick getaway.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I pulled up to the garage, hearing the riotous music and shouting through my closed windows. I inched past the opening only to see the largest crowd of people I'd ever witnessed in the little podunk town. I parked the car on the street, around the corner from TM. As I walked toward the party I gave myself a pep talk, attempting to boost my confidence. I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and walked onto the compound.

First thing I noticed was the boxing ring. When I drove by I'd seen the crowd but now I was seeing that they were pushed up against the ring. There was an actual fight going on. I knew the boys trained but was unaware that they fought one another. I cursed myself for not having the foresight to bring my camera with me. I was too busy trying to actively _not_ think about Happy.

An involuntary shiver ran down my spine at the thought of the name and I groaned. This wasn't going to be an easy night for me. I shook off my discomfort and concentrated on making my way to the crowd. The closer I got, the louder the shouting became and the more curious I was at who was in the ring. Amoung all the shouting, I heard the only voice that yelled that stupid nickname at me.

"HAR-VAARD!" Kozik elongated the word as he called out from somewhere around me.

I turned to see where he was but was engulfed in a bear hug from behind. He lifted me up off the ground and swung the both of us in a circle. I struggled, wiggling my body to try and escape his grasp.

"KOZIK!" I yelled in distress, "Let me down!"

He chuckled but set me down. I smoothed down my shirt huffing, my hands left resting on my hips.

"You know I hate that name." I frowned with petulance.

I didn't need to tell him, he already knew it. I'd spent way too much time and energy trying to get him to use my given name. His smirk widened as I narrowed my eyes at him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, steering me towards the ring.

"I'm glad you made it." He smiled.

I screwed up my face, "No thanks to you."

"Aww come on," He pouted, "You know you love me."

I rolled my eyes with a wry grin on my mouth, "Whatever… _Herman_."

He dropped his arm and stared at me in mock shock. I giggled knocking him with my shoulder.

He shook his head in defeat, "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

I shrugged, "Eh, what can you do?"

"Let's go."

He grabbed me around the upper arm, pulling me through the throng of people surrounding the fight and into the clubhouse. I coughed when he opened the door having been submerged in a cloud of smoke. The smoke was so thick the entire room seemed hazy. I could hardly make out the pool table that was sitting in the corner. Kozik stopped at the bar and ordered two drinks from Phil.

I smiled up at the prospect as he handed me the beer, "Thanks Phil."

He nodded back, a small grin on his face, "Anything for you Elle."

Kozik had turned around on his stool leaning back on the bar, his elbows holding him at an angle.

He shifted slightly, his mouth reaching my ear and loudly whispered, "The prospect has a crush on you."

I shot him a disapproving glare, "Shush, he might hear you. Don't embarrass the poor guy."

Kozik laughed out loud, "Clearly you don't understand what it's like to be a Prospect."

I shook my head and clapped the bottom of his beer as soon as it touched his lips. The beverage shot out through the spout and he spluttered, his face wet with alcohol.

"Elle!" He shouted in disbelief, shaking to dislodge the drink off him.

"Good on ya, Ellie girl."

Someone patted me in the middle of the back and from the burr of his voice I knew it was Chibs. Chibs' arm slid around my middle as he leaned into the bar, between Kozik and I. He manage to get around to ordering a bottle of whiskey from the Prospect. The Prospect handed him a brand new bottle and Chibs took a long swig. He tipped the bottle in my direction, an offering, but I shook my head.

He chuckled, "You're missing out, luv."

I shrugged uncaring. I wasn't much of a whiskey drinker. Hand me some wine, or gin and I was your girl but anything else I wasn't interested in. The door to the clubhouse opened and raucous cheering filtered in. I was reminded of the people outside in the ring. I gazed back at Chibs who was leaning against me, incredibly inebriated.

"I didn't know you guys fought each other…?" I trailed off, making it a question.

He smiled, his lids half closed, "It's a way to relieve stress."

I snorted, "By beating the shit out of one another?"

He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Kozik grumbling, "That's my cue to leave."

He was eyeing whoever had come through the door and shoved off the bar, walking over to the pool table.

I furrowed my brow, "What's tha-"

I was cut off by someone grabbing my ass. I yelped and jumped closer into Chibs. My sudden movement caused Chibs to sway, but he tightened his hold on me and the bar, to steady the both of us.

"How about you go and get me something to drink, sweetheart." The voice attached to the hand groping me spoke.

I whipped my head around, "Excuse me!?"

A man with dark brown, almost black, curly hair and bright blue eyes was staring at me in confusion. He hadn't been expecting me to talk back to him. Chibs' laughter broke the tension between us.

"Tig, this is Elle." He introduced.

Tig's eyebrows rose so high on his forehead, they disappeared into his hair line.

"You're the journalist?" He asked rhetorically, "Well I'll be damned. Wasn't expecting a pretty little thing like you."

I noticed that his face was covered in gashes and had dried blood all around his knuckles.

"Yeah, well I wasn't expecting to meet someone who looks like he's gone several rounds with a wild animal, but what can you do?" I commented.

He and Chibs laughed together, but it was Chibs who ultimately spoke up, "I take it you lost, then?"

Tig shrugged, ordering a drink, "You sound surprised. You know what he's like."

I was sandwiched between Tig and Chibs, while still facing the bar and didn't notice the third person to approach us.

"Still being a sore loser?" The deep reverb spoke from beside Tig.

I froze knowing that voice all too well. I knew I'd eventually run into him considering I was on his turf, but I was still jarred. I didn't think he'd appreciate my presence at his welcome home party. I snuck a glance across the bar at him and watched as he shrugged into the worn leather cut. I felt a stirring in my lower abdomen.

Here he was, a few feet away from me wearing actual clothing. Not the orange jumpsuit I'd grown accustomed to seeing him in. He seemed so different now that he was in the real world. Almost like I'd dreamt him up but now he wasn't a figment of my imagination. My heart began to thud in my chest, and the blood rushed through my veins pumping me full of adrenaline.

His face was as equally mashed up as Tig's but due to his darker complexion it wasn't as obvious. His fingers wrapped around the beer that was slid in his directions and I noticed they were adorned with large silver rings. One a reaper and the other some sort of club paraphernalia. His arms were rippling with muscle, flexing with each movement he made.

I was too scared to look up any further, not wanting him to notice me. I felt like sinking to the floor, or maybe melting into a wall. Somewhere he'd never see me. I shouldn't have come. I wasn't ready to face my inmate out here. It was all too real. My panic was interrupted by Tig calling attention to me. His arm tugged me away from Chibs as he spoke, turning me to face the man I desperately wanted to avoid.

"Chibs was just introducing me to your little girlfriend."

I was staring at Happy wide-eyed as he turned towards us. I watched as the smirk on his face dropped the second recognition coursed through him. His eyes glowered down on me. I could almost detect shock in his eyes but the man was so perfect at imitating a statue that I couldn't be sure what I was actually seeing.

I shrank in closer to Tig. If I made myself seem smaller than maybe he'd forget I was here and go about his business. Tig glanced down at me, feeling the change in my body language. I went from an outraged woman to timid little girl, looking for protection. He furrowed his brow and caught the Mexican standoff happening between Happy and I.

I heard as more men approached the four of us. I tried to turn my attention to the conversation they were having. I vaguely heard as I was introduced the Vice President but neither Happy nor I could look away from one another. I was aware that everyone around us had stopped speaking and all eyes were on me. I blinked finally coming back to reality and tearing my eyes away from Happy. I looked over and found Clay eyeing me expectantly.

I gave a meek smile, "Hey Clay. It's good to see you finally out and about."

He nodded, his eyes shifting between Happy and I. Understanding the predicament I was in he gave me a slight nod, allowing me the chance to make a getaway. I thanked the man internally, waiting for his dismissal.

"Glad to see you made it." He answered, a finality to his tone.

I pursed my lips, pushing away from Tig and stumbling over my excuse to leave.

"I need some air."

I shuffled past the Sons surrounding me, noticing a few new faces. As I rushed away, I brushed against Happy and something deep within me roused at the contact. I felt nauseous.

"Way to scare her off, Tig."

Was the last thing I heard as I approached the door.


	9. A Night to Remember

**A/N: Edited 8-13-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Rooftop - Zara Larsson, & Bailamos - Enrique Iglesias_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I reached the door and shoved it open, reveling in the fresh air. I staggered over to the picnic table noticing that the area had cleared out after the fight. Being distracted by Happy I hadn't noticed that everyone had gone inside. I leaned against the edge of the table, closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

I needed to examine what these feelings were all about. I was definitely still scared of the man, maybe even more so now that he was roaming , there was something more. I hadn't felt like this since discovering my first crush as an adolescent.

 _Oh my god!_

That was it. I had a crush on him. My eyes snapped open. I had a crush on Happy. _When the hell had that happened? How had I managed to develop this? To a criminal._ I doubled over with nausea, one hand clamped down on my stomach and the other pushing my palm across my forehead.

 _What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I crush on one of the nicer ones? Like Kozik?_ _Hadn't I just been comparing his merits the other day?_ Knowing he was one of the better candidates. Happy was the complete opposite from Kozik; closed off, cruel, terrifying. Kozik was at least someone I could call a friend. I guess it was true what they said, bad boys were irresistible. _What was I even thinking?_ It was pretty obvious that I wasn't. Thinking. At all. This was the worst development I'd ever had.

" _Shit_." I mumbled out loud, frustrated with myself.

I heard the creak of the door hinges and the heavy boots hitting the pavement.

"I'll be in in a minute." I murmured, waving a hand behind me.

I assumed it was Kozik who came to check on me, or maybe Phil. There was no response to my uttering making me realize who had followed me out. I jerked up backing away from the man closing in on me. He opened his mouth as if to speak but quickly shut it. A shiver ran down my spine causing me to feel the need to curl into the fetal position.

We stood a few feet apart, staring each other down. I couldn't hear anything but the frantic thuds of my heart. The world around us was spinning and we were the only beings tethered to solid ground. I was breathing deeply through my mouth trying to collect myself. There were so many emotions flowing through me all at once that I couldn't find a single one to hold on too. I had an urge to reach out and touch the man standing in front of me.

Our visits never allowed us to touch one another. _Was he as cold as his exterior exhibited?_ In that moment it was the only thing I needed. I needed to know what he felt like. My hand gravitated towards him, tentative in its pursuit. We both watched, intrigued by my advance, as I neared his bulging bicep. The muscles in his arm flexed with anticipation and it startled me. I half pulled my arm back, gazing up at him. My fingers curled into a loose fist, still wanting to feel.

"Elle?" Kozik's voice called from the door.

The both of us were shot out of our moment. Startling away from each other. Kozik's head appeared from behind Happy's shoulder, his usual smile turned upside down in confusion. He glanced from Happy then back to me.

"You alright?" His voice concerned.

Happy backed away, while my resolve began to crumble. I swayed, dizzy from the intoxication of being so near to my inmate.

"Woah…" Kozik caught me before I could crumble to the floor.

I reached for him, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. I closed my eyes, lifting my free hand to cover them. If I thought I was nauseous earlier, than I couldn't explain the feeling I had in this moment. Kozik sat me down on the bench, turning his head to check on Happy. I leaned forward, resting my head on the side of Kozik's shoulder.

"Too much smoke." I muttered to him, coming up with yet another excuse for my reactions.

I heard his chuckle, "Lightweight."

I smiled against him, pivoting my head to look upwards. From the corner of my eye, I could see Happy still standing in the sidelines. I fully turned my head in his direction, Kozik matching my adjustment. Happy's face was contorted with frustration. I peered at him like a deer caught in head lights.

There was no explanation for what had just transpired between the two of us. Happy spun, pulling his arm back and slamming his fist into the metal clubhouse door. The clang of his metal rings echoing through the quiet night. I jolted up straight, a small gasp escaping my mouth, shocked by his sudden outburst.

Kozik narrowed his eyes, calculating his brother's reaction. Without turning back, Happy hauled the door open, the noise from inside filtering back to us. He stomped into the clubhouse, letting the door slam closed behind him. Kozik looked down at me, a million questions forming in his mind. I gave him an awkward smile. I wasn't ready to talk about what had just happened, and never thought I would be. Especially not with another Son. Kozik caught my hesitation at the subject and quelled his queries.

"Ready to get back in there?" He propositioned.

I pouted, "I guess. I don't think I'll be hanging around for much longer though."

Kozik gave me his megawatt smile and helped me stand. He wrapped his arm around the middle of my back, pulling me tight to his side. We walked back into the clubhouse, ignoring everything that had just occurred.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

It was Friday night and I was dreading having to go back to Charming. I'd successfully avoided the place for the past two weeks. After that party, and seeing Happy, I was thoroughly exhausted. Once Kozik and I had gotten back inside, Happy had disappeared. I refused to think about where he'd gone, knowing full well that he was in one of the dorm rooms, consorting with one of the crow eaters.

Kozik had spent the rest of his evening sticking close to me. He never brought up the scene he walked in on, but was also smart to not let me forget what he saw. I was thankful for Kozik, more than I'd ever been and didn't care if he felt I might be leading him on. I needed a shoulder to lean on, and he was the one to step up and be that for me.

Once the guys had gotten bored with firing questions and thinly veiled innuendos my way I was able to take my leave. I had to fight off a million and one advances from Tig but was able to get out of there scot-free. I managed to occupy my time away by immersing myself in the concept sketches of the Reaper I'd been working on, while simultaneously planning with Lyla via phone.

I was doing my best to help with the wedding from afar but it was proving more difficult than I liked. After the second week of declining Lyla's requests to visit, she had a breakdown, freaking out. I conceded and told her I'd come early on Saturday morning to spend the day with her and Tara. Unfortunately for me, after finally agreeing to go back, all I could think about was Happy.

I was on edge all day, trying to distract myself with anything and everything I could. I had been lying in bed for over an hour, unable to fall asleep. Deciding after a while to take a warm bath and smoke some weed to calm my nerves. Now that I was thoroughly relaxed, I settled in the middle of my bed, my pillows fluffed and covers pulled up to my chin. I snuggled into the comfort of my blankets and drifted off into dreamland.

 _I was laying on the couch in the clubhouse donned in my nightwear. A flimsy throw covering my legs. The room was quiet, no one milling around. I tossed the blanket off me, standing and padding my way over to the bar. It had to been some time in the middle of night based on the sheer emptiness of the vast room._

 _Due to the fact that I couldn't sleep, I snuck around the back of the bar, kneeling and grabbing a chilled bottle of gin from the fridge. I straightened back up, grabbing the nearest glass and pouring myself three fingers worth. With two hands I brought the drink to my lips and drained the liquid. As I set the glass down on the counter, ready to pour myself another, the clubhouse door opened. I hopped up against the bar, leaning over and peering at whoever had come in._

 _I gasped, hopping back down and running around the bar. I met Happy halfway between the door and the couch. He was covered in cuts and bruises. My hands frantically prodded his body, searching for any life threatening injuries. I began hyperventilating at his weakened state. His hands caught mine and held them flat against his chest. I gazed up at him, my eyesight blurry from welling tears._

 _He shook his head, silently indicating for me not to cry. He was reassuring me he wasn't hurt. I fell into his chest, his arms wrapping around and keeping me close. I sighed into him, laying my cheek against his heart. I was relieved to know that nothing too terrible had happened to him. Before long, Happy's embrace loosened, his hands circled around my upper arms._

 _He pushed himself back, gazing longingly at me. His eyes lingered on my mouth. I bit down on my bottom lip, anticipating his next move. He leaned forward, his hands sliding up my arms to hold either side of my face. The rough callouses of his fingers scraped along my cheeks causing a flood of arousal to pool in my stomach._

 _His lips found mine in a fiery passion. I whimpered with unbridled joy. I'd never imagined anything more perfect. Our lips fit together like adjoining puzzle pieces. I tilted my head sideways, gaining more access. My arms reached for the bottom of his shirt. I slid my fingers under the hem, spreading them out along his taught stomach. Happy's mouth left mine, both of us catching our breath._

 _He took one step away from me, arms crossed and pulling up the bottom of his shirt. I shivered with pleasure, excited to finally see the body my hands were just caressing. Without warning Happy began to fade into the background. A smirk graced his lips, while his arms still pulled upwards. His body became translucent as the shirt lifted high enough to uncover his abs. With a blink of an eye, he disappeared in to the background._

I shot up straight in my bed, clutching my covers to my chest with one hand. I inhaled in deep heaves, unable to catch my breath. My body was covered in a sheen of sweat and there was a heat radiating from between my thighs.

"Fuck." I whispered.

I tossed myself backwards, landing between my pillows. I lifted the blankets over my face, embarrassed and covering my reddened face. _How was I ever going to be able to show my face in Charming again?_ I'd never be able to look the man straight in the face. Not after finding how hot and bothered I was with him.

I'd gone from discovering the teeny crush to having sexy dreams about the man. At least it was all in my head. Tucked away where no one could see. I replayed the last scene from my dream, frowning in disappointment that my dream self wouldn't even let me see him half naked.

"Ugh!" I groaned in frustration.

I flipped myself over onto my stomach, burying my head in a pillow. When I got into town tomorrow, there was absolutely no way I was leaving Lyla's house. If there were errands to run, I wasn't going. I would drive straight to the house, help her plan and then leave. Driving straight back home. No pit stops.

I curled my body into a ball, pulling my covers closer. I settled into my bed, ignoring the need for release my body was begging for. I crossed my legs over each other – _squeezing_ – attempting to rid myself of any friction. I prayed for a dreamless slumber. Hoping to cool myself off before the morning came.


	10. I Leave My Life In Your Hands

**A/N: Edited 8-13-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Bailamos - Enrique Iglesias_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I was up bright and early the next morning. Getting on the road a few hours after the sun had risen. I sped through the small town, taking all the side streets to avoid getting anywhere close to Teller-Morrow Automotive. I pulled into Lyla and Opie's driveway, seeing Tara's SUV already parked there.

I turned the car off, grabbing my notebook and a few bridal magazines I collected for Lyla. I walked around back, knowing that they never used their front door. I found the screen door opened and shouldered my way past, into the house.

"Lyla? Tara?" I called out, gazing around the empty kitchen.

"In here." Tara called from the other room.

I toed off my shoes, leaving them beside the door and walked through the kitchen. Down the hall there was an opening into the living room. Lyla and Tara were there sitting around the coffee table. Pictures, post-it notes, and the seating plan spread out everywhere.

I dropped down onto the couch, both woman smiling up at me. I tossed the magazines in front of me on the table and stretched out along the couch. I rested one arm across my face, half covering my eyes. I was exhausted. I hoped I'd get a better sleep after the unmentionable dream woke me up but as it turns out my subconscious wasn't ready to allow me any rest. I'd had half a dozen more dreams about Happy, each one ending the same, leaving me wanting even more.

"Long night?" Tara inquired.

I huffed, "You have no idea."

Lyla reached out and patted me arm, "You'll get used to it. Being around these guys."

I turned my head, staring at her. What an odd statement to make. _What was she trying to get at? Did she know something I didn't?_ Both Tara and Lyla were eyeing me knowing smiles and I felt naked. It felt as though they read my mind. _How was it that they knew I was exhausted from being up all night?_ Awake because I'd been dreaming about a particular Son.

"It's happened to all of us." Tara piped up, "We've all had that look."

I leaned up on my elbows, "What look?"

Tara shook her head, a small smirk on her mouth, "The look of a woman plagued by thoughts of a certain Son…"

"What?!" I squeaked, giving myself away entirely.

Lyla giggled, "There's nothing wrong with crushing on one of the boys." She and Tara shared conspiring glance before she continued, "As long as it's the right one."

I sat up, sliding down off the couch onto the floor with them.

I grabbed the nearest magazine and began ripping through the pages, "I've no idea what you're on about."

Both woman chuckled, but left it alone. I stewed in my confusion and anger. I didn't need this shit in my life right now. I was only here to create a project. I wasn't here to fall in love, get married, and have babies. None of that was on the agenda for me.

Eventually after a few minutes of me freaking out internally, I calmed down and was able to join in on the conversation. I added in tidbits of advice here and there. I had great information from a photographer's point of view, which helped Lyla stage the entire wedding.

Around lunch time, there was a commotion coming from the backyard and Lyla mentioned that Opie was probably out there. Something about cleaning out some old furniture from the storage shed. I yawned, stretching my legs out underneath me.

"Do you have anything to eat? Or maybe some coffee?" I asked, leaning my head back against a cushion.

Lyla stood up, "There should be something in the kitchen."

Tara raised, offering me a hand. I groaned but grabbed it and she pulled me back into a standing position. I stretched my hands above my head, trailing after Tara into the kitchen. As I neared the room, I could hear Lyla speaking with someone, and heard the deep monotone reply. I figured she was talking to Opie. I rounded the corner and she smiled, tossing me a bottle of water. I caught it but narrowed my eyes at the liquid. This wouldn't help me stay awake.

"This isn't coffee." I complained.

She laughed, "It'll do you better than caffeine."

I twisted the top open, just as the screen door screeched open and in walked a barebacked Jax. Tara sauntered over to him, kissing him deeply before running her hands through his hair then over his shoulders. I rolled my eyes. It was like they were purposely shoving their happy relationships in my face. Now that they knew I had a minor crush on one of the boys, it was like they were making it their mission to show me how attentive the boys in the club could be.

I closed my eyes, draining half the bottle in one gulp. The door opened for a third time, heavy footfalls stepping up the stairs and into the kitchen. I saw as Jax grabbed a bottle of water and a clean shirt off the counter to toss them towards the man who'd just walked in. I followed the items through the air and my face froze as I gazed upon the naked chest of the man I spent the night fantasizing about.

I inhaled sharply, choking on the remnants of water in my mouth. I coughed, covering my mouth and feeling the heat from my blush on my cheeks. My cough gained Happy's attention and he glanced over, his shirt halfway up his arms. He turned his concentration back to putting his shirt on until it dawned on him who he just saw. His head whipped back in my direction but my gaze was fixated on his chest, too busy to notice him glaring at me.

He was extremely fit. Cut in all the right places. The glistening sweat droplets, cascading down creases of his sculpted abdomen were causing a riot with my hormones. My previous dreams hadn't done the man any justice. I had no idea he was riddled in tattoos. I'd obviously seen the ones on his arms, but never thought to imagine how much more I was missing. I could honestly say it surprised me.

My eyes traced up, along the curve of the snake. I landed on the one that was drawn around his collar bone. _I live. I die. I kill. For my family_. I felt as a shiver formed at the tip of my spine, rolling through me with pleasure. I clenched my teeth together, my eyes wide with embarrassment and fright. I tore my eyes away from Happy's chest into his smoldering black eyes.

With sudden reverence, I was caught in the slight opening of his mouth. The tip of his tongue stuck out, running along the line of his lower lip. My hands clutched the bottle in my hands, causing a loud crinkle to resonate through the room. I heard someone take a breath, and I jerked my head away from Happy's gaze to find Tara, Lyla, Opie and Jax watching us with interest.

"I-I…" I squeaked, unable to form a sentence and backed out of the kitchen.

Once I was out of the room, I tore off running down the hall to the bathroom. I rushed into the room, slamming the door behind me and locking it for good measure. I twisted the tap, turning the cold water on. I let the tap run for a few seconds before cupping my hands underneath. Once I had a generous amount of water in my hands, I leaned in and splashed the freezing water all over my face. I wiped away the excess condensation and stared at myself in the mirror. My entire face was flush.

"Oh my god." I whispered to myself.

If there was any question about who I was crushing on before this, there was definitely no question now. Even Opie and Jax knew about it. There was no doubt in my mind that both Tara and Lyla would be telling them all about my nighttime dalliances. I gripped either side of the sink, lowering my head and clenching my eyes shut. I took several deep breaths, calming my nerves.

My stomach was flipping over every few seconds, making me want to hurl. _Why was I so turned on by Happy?_ He had to be at least ten years my senior. _Why did he have such a pull on my hormones? Was I just getting caught up in all the biker bad boy hype?_ I nodded firmly, yes that was all this was. Mind over matter. I could get through this, I just needed to concentrate on the 'mission'.

I turned the tap off and grabbed the hand towel. I wiped away all the water from my face. I smiled at myself, refreshed and feeling awake. I flipped the lock open, and turned the doorknob. I pulled the door in and attempted to step out into the hall. Unfortunately I was blocked by a firm and solid being standing in the doorway.

My hand dropped from the door and I froze, staring up at Happy. He was sporting a frown, as if he was angry with me. The first thing I noticed was he was now wearing a simple and plain white t-shirt. I fought the frown that threatened to form on my face. Without warning one of his hands reached out for me, curling around the side of my neck with a tenderness I never expected from a man like him.

"Oh." I breathed.

His touch caused a stirring in my body. Heat rose through me and I began inching towards him. I never noticed the height difference between us, having never been _this_ close to him. He was at least a full head taller than I was. I raised, on my tippy toes. His hand tightened around the side of my neck, pulling me towards him. Both of us were breathing heavily, caught up in the moment. I lifted both of my hands, and laid them flat on his pecs. I flexed my fingers, revelling in the feel of his solid muscles beneath them.

"Hap!" Jackson called from in the kitchen.

Happy was pulled from his reverie and jolted backwards. In his startled state his hand yanked away from me before he was able to fully loosen his grip and it dragged me forward. His fingernails scratched along my skin and I hissed at the scratch. It was a feeling of mixed pain and pleasure. I stumbled to catch my balance, lifting a hand to rub over the minor affliction. With furrowed brows, I straightened and gazed at him. He was conflicted, almost concerned for the injury he caused.

"Let's go!" Jackson's voice carried towards us.

Making his decision not to confirm if I was ok, he spun on his heel and stalked down the hallway. He glanced back before stepping through the threshold of the kitchen. I stared back at him, unsure of what emotion was surging through me in that moment. There was arousal coursing through my system but a higher concentration of confusion was there too.

 _What the hell had just happened?_ _Was this him acting on the potential of mutual attraction?_ I was left standing alone and muddled in the middle of the hallway. I fell back against the wall, sliding down to the floor, my hand still smoothing over my neck. My eyes glazed over as I stared at the blue wall.

"Elle?" A soft feminine voice called out.

I turned, "Hm?" My eyes focussed on the woman's head poking from around the corner, "Yeah! Coming."

Lyla disappeared and I used the wall to balance myself. I stood up and rejoined the two women in the living room. Lyla had set out finger sandwiches on the table. I sat next to Tara while they discussed the seating arrangements. I picked a sandwich and nibbled away at the nourishment. Neither woman asked or acknowledged the obvious encounter between Happy and I.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

They both waved goodbye as she reversed out of the driveway. It was nearly nightfall by the time they'd finished the final touches of the wedding plans. Once the boys had gotten home Elle was quick to leave. It was obvious she wasn't comfortable around them after the day she'd had. They let her leave without any hassle.

"So. Is anyone going to address what happened today?" Tara asked the crowded kitchen.

Jax and Opie were sitting at the table, while Ellie, Kenny, Piper and Abel squealed chasing each other around. Thomas was sound asleep, snuggled in his car seat. Lyla was standing in front of the sink, cleaning up the remnants of their lunch. She turned her gaze to Tara.

"I honestly thought it'd be Kozik." Lyla opened, tacking on to Tara's initial question.

Opie nodded, agreeing, "Yeah, they've gotten real close since she started coming around."

"And Happy? Did any of you see that coming?" Tara directed her question at Jax.

Jackson shrugged, "He's never mentioned her like that. If that's what you're asking."

Opie and Jackson gave each other a worried glance. If Kozik was openly pursuing Elle and Happy was also after her that could cause a rift in the family dynamic. They didn't need that shit coming to a head right now.

Lyla sighed, leaning against the counter, "Did Hap say anything after you left?"

Opie shook his head, "No. He was quiet for the rest of the day. Didn't even acknowledge the fact that we knew something was up."

"Well that can't be good." Tara spoke.

"What do we do about it?" Lyla asked.

Jax shook his head, "Nothing. For now. She's been clear about turning Kozik down and Happy doesn't seem keen on admitting anything. We leave it be and let it play itself out. If it starts to effect club business, then we get involved."

Tara and Lyla nodded, silently promising to keep an eye out for Elle. They were blindsided by her reaction to Happy. They both seriously believed she'd been crushing on Kozik.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

He sat on the table top of the bench, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He was leaning into his knees, slouched over. He assessed the compound, it was early afternoon and a few of the boys were hard at work in the shop. The rest were milling around, knowing that Clay had called for Church. His eyes narrowed when he spotted the familiar shit-box she drove. He watched as she pulled into a parking space, turned the car off and got out, her camera hanging from one hand.

It'd been exactly three days since he'd seen her. He was pissed at the turn out of their last encounter. He didn't know what the hell had gotten into him. He should have never gone after her. He should have left with the boys the instant she turned and ran. Now he had the stupid memory of her delicate hands atop his chest.

From across the compound, coming from the inside of the shop, he heard his brother's voice shout, "Harvard!" and run over to where she smiled brightly at him.

When Kozik reached for her, pulling her into an embrace, a fire ignited within him. Fury raged through his core, spreading to all his limbs. He stood, ready to stalk over there and pull his brother off of her. _How dare Kozik step in on his territory?_ She was his to make those kind of advances at. Regardless of the fact that he wanted nothing to do with her. Kozik wasn't in a position to step in and question his claim. He'd made that clear the other night after they got out.

Once she'd left the party he cornered his brother, telling him to back off and keep away from the girl. Kozik being Kozik asked him why but he didn't have a straight answer to give so he just told him to stay away. Leave her alone. It pissed him off that Kozik was blatantly pursing her. He could see from where he was standing that the girl wasn't interested. It was obvious and he knew Kozik could see it too. Kozik wasn't a stupid man. That enraged him further, making him assume that his brother was chasing after her purposely, to try and instigate a reaction from him.

From the sidelines, Opie and Jax witnessed the change in their brother's demeanour. They were there on the weekend, learning how Happy felt about the journalist. However they knew women could cause more trouble than they were worth. They didn't need that kind of drama within the club, not now with their new business ventures peaking.

Jax stepped forward, placing one hand on Happy's shoulder, "Leave it brother."

Happy froze at the statement and instead continued to stare as she and Kozik conversed in animated gestures. Both were laughing at each other's statements. A lick of the horrid green monster flushed through him. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that smile. He wanted to be the only one who caused her to shine that way. He spun around to face the blank wall of the clubhouse.

He ripped his cigarette out of his mouth and stomped it out beneath his heavy boot. Jax let his hand fall from his shoulder as he stomped into the clubhouse, leaving that stupid blonde bint and his equally dense brother in the parking lot to giggle to themselves and out of his sight. He'd wait in the Chapel. At least there he could escape those two and have a second of some peace and quiet.


	11. And I Think to Myself

**A/N: Edited 8-13-2017.**

 **This may be my favourite chapter of the whole story.**

 **Playlist:** _What A Wonderful World (Louis Armstong Cover) - Alison Mosshart & the Forest Rangers_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I was standing off in the sidelines, watching the array of people around me mingle. Lyla had just given me the go ahead to take a break and get a drink, but I wanted to people watch a bit longer. I'd been to a few weddings in my time but never one as non-traditional as this one. Majority of the patrons in attendance were porn stars and bikers, with the exception of Tara, a doctor and the children who were too innocent to be labeled.

As a group that were labeled as white trash. I found that this wedding was one of the most abundantly love filled ones I'd ever been too. I gazed on, my eyes hopping from person to person. I settled on the men; these hardened bikers. Most were hammered, joking and laughing with one another. Even those who you could tell weren't drinking were still giddy, smiles galore.

It made a person think. I'd grown up learning that to commit a crime was evil. Not to mention that criminals were some of the evilest people to walk our _God_ given earth. _Boy_ – was that theory ever wrong. No doubt, these men committed atrocities that I could bear to hear no details about, but they couldn't be held in the same darkness as those who were branded psychopaths; cold blooded murderers or rapists. These men had empathy, they did what was required to support their families. No more, no less.

As I revaluated my outlook on life, my gaze settled on a familiar face, one that had visited me nightly. I'd grown so familiar with imagining him, that seeing him in person didn't affect me in the same way anymore. Gone were the unwarranted blushes and heavy breathing, replaced by a warming in my pelvic region and hidden heart palpitations. I was unsure how much I could trust myself in his presence, so I decided that keeping a good few feet away was the safest bet.

I was becoming a pro at side stepping the man, managing to keep a safe distance at all times. Today it was a little harder than I wanted, but I'd still succeeded in staying away. I'd even managed to keep Kozik off my back too. I'd given him the excuse of being busy doing a job, one that I wanted Lyla to be proud of.

Out of the corner of my eye I registered a small movement. The Son sitting next to Happy nudged his shoulder and it caused both of us to glance up. Chibs, who I'd only just now taken notice in, was the one to prod Happy and when Happy looked at his brother, Chibs inclined his head in my direction. I stared on, no longer scared if Happy caught me. Happy's head turned finding me standing directly across the dance floor from him, watching his every move.

Nothing on his face gave way to what he might be thinking but instead he turned back, immersing himself in the conversation at his table. I let myself linger on his profile a few moments longer, aware that he knew I was still watching him. I enjoyed the way the subtle glow of the lights illuminated his darker features. It softened the hardened lines instilled into his skin, and gave a nice glow to his dark eyes. In the warmth of the afterglow he almost looked to be decades younger. My heart gave a pull at the observation, wondering just how much older he was.

When I finally pulled my gaze from him, he had already relaxed back in his seat. I set my hand down on the table next to me, pausing to grab my emptied wine glass. I turned away, heading back in the direction of the bar. I stopped to order another drink before continuing on to where my equipment was housed. After being handed a new glass, I moved on reaching the edge of the parking lot.

There was a small group of tables set up here. They held the seating arrangement map, party favours and the Winston's guestbook. Under these tables was where I kept all of my equipment hidden. Keeping everything here meant it was tucked away discreetly but accessible. Before bending to pull out my bags, I sat on the edge of the table, crossing one ankle over the other. I lifted my camera up, pulled the lens cap off and focused on the scene in front of me.

Through the lens, I watched, waiting to capture the precise moment. There was an underlying current of happiness drifting in the wind and even the strongest cynic would have been swept up in its embrace. The sun had already begun setting creating an entirely new aura. The area was lit up with fairy lights, giving the whole party a heavenly glow.

The Wahewa land was expansive and downright gorgeous. Lyla mentioned the boys got a good deal because of some partnership they had with the Natives. I had an inkling that that partnership was a little less than savoury. Regardless of that connection, the choice of venue was beautiful. In the dusk everything glimmered, coupled with the lighting Lyla had planned made the entire setting feel cozy.

I positioned my finger on the button, still waiting for the perfect moment. Everyone was caught up in the party, enjoying one another's company and reveling in the carelessness of the night. I found my moment when Lyla hit the dance floor with a few other women. I snapped the picture quickly, encompassing the entire scene. I pulled the camera away from my face, proud of my ability to capture the feel of the environment.

I lifted from against the spot where I was leaning, leaving my Rebel on the top and rounding the table to the back. I knelt down and reached under, one hand holding on to the ledge to keep myself steady. With my tongue sticking out in concentration, I tugged the strap of my equipment bag and dragged it out. I grabbed the handles on either side and lifted the bag up and onto the table top.

I took hold of the zipper, running it along the edge. I flipped the top open and carefully moved the parcels around until I found my external flash and tripod. I put them down on the table next to my camera and zipped the bag closed. I grabbed the handles again, preparing to lift the hefty bag up when two tanned skin arms slid into place beside mine. The rough fingers on each hand brushed against mine, curling around the handles, and the cool silver of his rings left a lingering cold spot where they connected with my skin.

"I've got it." His deep rasp notified.

My fingers let go and I back away – _angling right_ – careful not to walk directly into him. I stood to the side watching as he pulled my bag off the table, set it on the ground and pushed it back under, hiding its existence with the table cloth. He straightened back up and turned to me.

I gave him a hesitant smile, "Thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgement. Without anything else to say he faced the dance floor, his hands shoved into his pockets. I tilted my head, wondering why he hadn't just left but figured he was waiting around for someone else. I willingly stood next to him, both of us watching as the party continued on without us.

For the first thirty seconds I felt awkward, standing there in silence, but once I got a handle on my nerves the vibe around us settled. We were content to stand there in the quiet, listening to the music filtering out to us at a lower frequency while also being able to hear as the wildlife carried on around us. Crickets chirped in the darkness, and fireflies appeared at irregular intervals. I couldn't help the grin that grew on my face. Happy was not a man you would consider being comfortable at an event such as this one.

I desperately wanted to strike up conversation with him, missing the days when we met at Stockton. Even if I was the only one talking. I glanced sideways hoping to catch him with a smile but instead my attention was caught but the three other men coming our way. I turned back to the dance floor as Chibs, Bobby, and Juice all walked away from the wedding and in our direction. They passed by the two of us with subtle nods in my direction.

Happy shifted in their direction taking a step towards them. I frowned, depressed that nothing had come of our little moment. I sighed moving to grab my things from the table when the gravel underneath Happy's foot crunched as he turned. I half looked over my shoulder, the noise catching my ear. He was peering at me, his face open and confusion clear in his eyes. I turned my whole body in his direction, struck by the way he was regarding at me.

"Happy?" I spoke his name out loud.

It wasn't the first time I'd said his name but it sure felt that way. I immediately cast my gaze to my feet. Saying his name aloud felt strange. I felt silly for it, as though I wasn't allowed too. I bit down on my lip, feeling foolish when I glanced back up at him. I saw the flicker in his eye, one that I'd seen once before in Stockton. It wasn't until now that I could properly place it. It was heat; arousal. _For me?_

In one long stride, he was towering over me. His hands grabbed either side of my face, tugging me towards him. Our lips melded, locking together. You always image your first kiss with someone to be subtle, tentative, and foolproof. Something that Hollywood perpetuated but always got wrong. There was nothing that could have prepared me for this moment occurring.

No kiss I'd ever had in my life measured up to this one. It was hard and unyielding but it was all I wanted. In all my dreams, I'd never dreamt up something as clumsy as this. We were uncoordinated and careless in our movements. It was perfectly awkward, neither of us quite prepared for the hasty action. My body ignited with his touch, my mind blanking with only one thought remaining; more.

I reached up and curled my hands around his biceps. I squeezed, shivering at the sheer strength of the muscle tissue there. His hands began to wander, sliding down my neck, over my collarbone, grazing my chest. One arm wrapped around my middle, tightening and yanking me even closer. The other arm was pressed heavily down the middle of my chest. That hand cupped around my neck, covering the same spot he'd scratched last week.

My upper body arced backwards, protesting by being bent in the wrong direction. He leaned down further into me. Trying to close the distance. Our height difference was making his spontaneity a tad uncomfortable. In all honesty, I couldn't care less. The discomfort of our positions meaningless by the fact that we were engaged in one of my many fantasies.

A light summer breeze kicked up around us, rustling the fabric of my dress. Goosebumps ran up both my arms and legs. A combining mixture from both the wind and contact with Happy. The sound of my dress in the wind must have broken Happy's concentration because as abruptly as he'd tackled me, he pulled away. His hands detached from me, causing me to stumble on the uneven ground.

One of his now free hands shot out and grabbed my waist, steadying me. Using both hands, I pressed them lightly to his stomach, balancing myself. Once it was clear I was stable, he let his arm drop away. I peered up at him, folding my arms together as I pulled away. I could still feel the indents of his abs ingrained on my fingertips. I opened my mouth to say something but realized there was nothing to say. Another gust of wind broke around us, my hair flying across my face. I reached up, tucking the strands behind my ears. Happy gazed at me, his stoic nature overwhelming.

"Happy!"

"Elle!"

Our names were called simultaneously from either sides of the event. Without another touch he turned away, catching up with the guys who'd passed us earlier. I spun around, scooping up my gear, searching for who called my name. I found Lyla standing on the grass, a few feet from the platform of the dance floor. I lifted my free hand, my fingers resting against my mouth. My lips felt bruised and swollen. _Did she notice? Had she seen Happy kiss me?_ A dozen more questions filtered through my mind before I reached her but instead of acknowledging what had occurred I smiled and asked her where she wanted me.

There was a pregnant pause between us where I was certain she'd witnessed what happened, but taking my cue decided to stay quiet. She informed me where she wanted me to stand, poised and ready to capture the bouquet toss. I took a second, gazing over my shoulder to where Happy had disappeared. I couldn't see where he went but I heard an engine running in the distance, figuring that he and the others were going out on club business.

I shuffled along, reaching my prime spot for picture taking. After this last shoot, the party would be winding down and I wondered if Happy would be back. _What was going to happen now? Would we talk about what happened?_ I had so many unanswered questions but at the same time I didn't care. I was blissfully content, at peace with my situation, fine with wondering what was going to happen next.


	12. I Hate the World Today

**A/N: Edited 8-13-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Bitch - Meredith Brooks_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

Their job was finished and the truck packed up with the new shipment. Now it was just a waiting game, to hear from their Prez okaying their take off. Chibs found Happy standing beside the truck, staring off into the dark night. Chibs pulled his beanie off, running a hand through the mess of strands, evening them out. There was a lit cigarette between Happy's index and middle finger, but from Chibs' perspective he hadn't taken a single toke. Pulling out his own pack of smokes, he lit one and inhaled.

"Gonna talk about it?" Chibs asked, blowing the smoke out.

Happy turned to him with a deadpanned face, "No."

Chibs shrugged, "Alright."

The two of them stood in silence. One smoking like a chimney, the other lost in thought. Chibs wasn't an idiot. He knew his brother, and he knew him well. Happy wasn't a talker that much everyone could agree on, but when it came to feelings, not many could say where Happy stood. Chibs was one of the few who could decode Happy. As they stood there, the darkness looming over them, Chibs could feel the unrest within his brother.

From the first night that the boys were let out, he'd seen the way Happy regarded the girl. It was obvious to him that Happy liked her, in a way that wasn't typical for Hap. But, it was still there. Chibs liked Elle. She was sweet and tried hard to stay open-minded. It'd taken a bit to get used to their lifestyle, but once she'd grown comfortable she cooled off and was a helluva good time. She was funny and quick with a witty comment or retort.

She never let the other girls get her down. Something he'd never experienced from outside women. Most were intimidated by the crow eaters and how they flaunted their sexual prowess, but not Elle. No, she rolled with the punches, letting the other's do their own thing. For a short time he'd figured she'd end up hooking up with Kozik. Eventually giving in to his constant advances, but when Happy entered the picture, he knew. Hell, he was sure everyone did.

He glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye, seeing him still in silent thought. He'd taken a huge risk tonight, opening himself up to the girl. Chibs had noticed her watching him, not just tonight but on other occasions as well. He was quick to see that she was also staying away. She was still cautious of Happy and didn't want to get in the way. She was a smart cookie that girl, knowing when to keep boundaries.

He'd seen the internal struggle Happy experienced whenever she was around. Peeved when Kozik got too close, but never intervening. Tonight would change things, whether Happy liked it or not. He'd gone and taken a chance, revealing to the girl that he did feel something for her. As uncertain as he may be about it. Chibs took a last drag of his smoke, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out. With a sigh he pushed off of the truck, advancing back to where Juice and Bobby were sitting. He stopped first, patting Happy on the shoulder.

"She's not like the rest. You need to figure out what you want from her." He left his brother with the only parting words he found fitting.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I was sitting on a bar stool, aimlessly kicking my feet back and forth. I'd opted for drinking beer tonight, not wanting to have to nurse a hangover in the morning. I picked at the label on the bottle in front of me. The condensation mixed with the flimsy paper product allowing it to fold easy and stick beneath my fingernails. I hadn't meant to stick around this long, but Lyla was adamant I stay.

I knew why she wanted me too, but Happy wasn't about to come over here and scoop me into his arms. Once Lyla had disappeared off to a dorm room with Opie, I should have taken my leave but I held on to that tiny ray of hope that maybe, just maybe, Happy wasn't going to be an outright asshole. Sometimes I couldn't believe how naive I was, even now as an adult.

It didn't take long for one of the sweetbutts to crawl into his lap. I had to commend Lyla's efforts. She tried to stop it from happening. However, Happy was going to get what he wanted, no matter at whose expense. Once she'd lost that fight, she chose to disappear, leaving me to fend for myself.

I tried to avoid watching what was going on but it was like a car crash; my eyes were attracted to the wreckage in front of me. I eventually turned around, straightened my back and kept up a light conversation with Phil, who was tending bar. I waited it out. Once the boys were good and trashed, I'd be able to sneak out without anyone seeing my shattered pride. I didn't need someone pointing out that I was running with my tail between my legs. I certainly didn't need any of the crow eaters noticing my fleeing.

I couldn't even have a pleasant conversation with Kozik. Everyone had seen what happened at the wedding, and now Kozik was avoiding me. He was still friendly, but less open to spending any real time with me. My spirit was crushed and my mind confused. This was what I wanted, _wasn't it_? To keep a safe distance from these men. Now that I'd dipped a foot into the family pool, building up a tentative relationship, I wanted nothing more than to be accepted into their folds.

Here I was left out in the cold. Alone and embarrassed at how I'd conducted myself. Allowing myself to fall prey to my fickle emotions. _And now?_ Here I was waiting; waiting for the opportune moment to run away. Pathetic. I was a stronger person than this. _How had I left myself open to be cast aside in such a careless matter?_

I squeezed the bottle in front of me, willing my negative thoughts away. I needed to be in better spirits if I was to continue with my project. I needed to be back in Charming in the morning. A night at home would do me some good. Allow me to center my focus; build up my broken confidence.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

"It's decided then?" Clay asked.

All the heads around the table nodded. Clay picked up the gavel and struck it down on the wooden plaque. The sound resonating through the room. At their dismissal the men got up, filing out the doors into the bar area. Happy was the last to stand, Clay catching his eye motioning him to stay. Without being told, Jackson (the last man out), shut the double doors behind him.

"You ok with this?" Clay questioned, rolling a cigar between his fingers.

Happy shrugged.

"Yeah, but you're offering up a lot for this one." Clay mentioned.

"Not much to be done about it now." Happy answered.

Clay tilted his head, mulling over the decision that was just made. Happy turned towards the door, his hand twisting the knob.

"You gonna let her ride bitch?" Clay joked.

Happy's nostrils flared, the tension between him and Elle obvious to everyone now. With a curt shake of his head he pushed the door open.

"I'll leave that to Kozik."

Happy retreated through the opened entrance. The resounding laugh of his president being the last thing he heard before grabbing the nearest blonde sweetbutt.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

When I arrived at the clubhouse the next morning, all the Sons looked like they were half dead. Kozik was the first to notice my arrival and flashed me a half-hearted smile. Even with the rift between us, he still managed to make me feel welcome. I sauntered over to him – _smug_ – only because I wasn't nearly as hungover as the rest of them.

Their Friday nights were quite an ordeal, and I managed to quit long before anything got too out of hand. I made my escape before midnight hit and was home and asleep by two. I felt rejuvenated. I laid my bag carefully against the side of the couch, mindful of the equipment I was hauling around.

I pulled him into a one armed hug, "How's it going buddy?"

He flinched, "Are you always this loud?"

I gave him a wry pout, feigning innocence. I went to tease him some more but Happy brushed past us at a brisk pace. Managing to shove Kozik, forcing him to get up.

"We're leaving."

His voice was deeper than usual with the remnants of sleep still lingering. I glanced up from where I sat and eyed where Happy had emerged from. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how he spent his night. Especially when a crow eater appeared around the same corner, fluffing up her hair and wiping her mouth. I ground my teeth together, frustrated by the jealousy seeping into my veins.

Kozik's hand patted the area just above my knee. The blond man was gazing at me, blatant pity in his eyes. I scoffed, narrowing my own and standing up. _Who did Kozik think he was acting holier than thou?_ I fumed, grabbing my backpack and in avertedly followed Happy out of the clubhouse. I didn't need his pity! It wasn't like there was actually something going on between Happy and I.

Yeah, ok. He kissed me at Lyla's wedding. But, he hadn't spoken to me since. Or even bothered to acknowledge my presence. He made it abundantly clear that he wasn't interested. I'd gathered that much from his actions. _Why should I care if he was getting head from one of those girls?_ Better her than me. I didn't need their bullshit in my life, or any STI's for that matter.

I stomped all the way over to the black van, hauled the door open and climbed up into the seat. I jerked my bag down by my feet with a violent shove. I adjusted the seatbelt across me, fastening the seatbelt in place. I pulled my wayfarer sunglasses down from my hair and covered my eyes. I crossed my arms in a huff and sat in the silence of the van. I was content to wait here until we got moving.

I would never admit it aloud, but Happy hurt my feelings. I felt like such an idiot. Letting my hopes up for someone with a reputation like his. I groaned out loud just as Phil climbed into the driver's seat.

"Everything ok?" The prospect asked.

I shrugged, leaning my head against the closed window, "I've had better mornings."

Phil nodded, sensing my horrible mood and chose to remain quiet. He started up the van, a subtle shaking moving through me. I peered out the window, my mouth pulled into a tight line. The tears built up in the wells of my eyes and silently dripped down my face. My naiveté striking again. _How could I possibly think a good night's sleep was enough?_ Nothing would make up for the blatant disregard Happy was throwing in my direction.

I sniffled, unwillingly, and saw as Phil cast a worrying glance in my direction. I ignored any ounce of recognition and continued to stare off out the window. The roar of multiple engines erupting to life filled the metal walls surrounding me and I watched the line of Harley's disappear around the corner. Phil let go of the break, the van following behind the long line of bikers.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the remaining tears spilling out. I lifted one hand and rubbed along my cheek, hiding my minor break in composure. I knew Phil would keep this development to himself. I plastered a smile on my face and leaned forward, turning the switch for the radio on.

"Anything you wanna listen to?" I asked him.

He shrugged, "Nothing in particular."

I raised an eyebrow, smiling at him, "You sure? You might not like the music I listen too."

"Whatever." Was his answer.

I chuckled, poor guy. I dialled through the radio stations, until I found my go-to one and blasted some obnoxious hip hop.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I turned down the music and glanced in Phil's direction, "I have to pee."

He laughed, "No problem. There's a rest stop a few exits away."

I grinned, "You're the best!"

Phil sped up, passing by the Sons driving in front of us. He signaled to the group, letting them know that we were making a stop. I deliberately kept my gaze in the opposite direction of the men on motorcycles, not wanting to accidently make eye contact with a certain someone. Once Phil had successfully overtaken the group, they fell into line behind us and I searched in the side view mirror for Happy.

I was conflicted. I didn't want to see him, but at the same time I needed to see him. I didn't understand my indecisiveness. I knew nothing was going to become of us. No matter how hard I tried, every time I saw him, I was reminded of our kiss. The more I thought about it, the more it became romanticized in my head. Funny how your memory alters with time.

Phil merged onto the off ramp and immediately slowed down, parking in a spot closest to the building that housed the bathrooms. I undid my seatbelt, opening the door and hopping down onto the pavement. The boys were pulling up to park as I trekked past them, ignoring their presence entirely.

In my haste to be out of reach, I failed to examine the public restroom. I ran into the nearest stall, finally registering the disgusting environment. I held back a gag and got down to business. I shouldered the stall door open, shivering in revulsion. I washed my hands rigorously, making sure to get every nook and cranny. Once I was sure I'd fought off all the germs I kicked open the door and skirted out, my hands held to my chest to stop myself from touching anything else.

I skirted my way back to the way. Ensuring that I avoided getting to close to the boys. They were all milling around for a smoke break. I bypassed them, brushing off some of their passive attempts to get me to join the conversation. I climbed back up into my seat and stared straight ahead. I managed to go through the ordeal without even a tiny glimpse of Happy. I frowned. I was tempted to peek out the window and see what he was up too but instead I chose to distract myself.

I noticed that Phil had left the keys in the ignition and I turned the van on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guys glance in my direction but I kept my gaze forward. I turned up the radio and began singing along to the song that was playing. Finding that the music wasn't enough to curb my hankering, I pulled down the visor, finding the tiniest mirror ever on the back. I gazed up into it, checking out my hair and decided that I needed to get it out of my face.

I reached up into my hair, brushing it through with my fingers before starting on a simple French braid. When I finished braiding the tail of my hair, I wrapped the only hair tie I had around the end. I sighed, realizing that the boys still weren't ready to get back on the road. I bent down, unzipping and rummaging through my bag.

I pulled out my camera and a short distance lens. I screwed it in place before rolling down my window. I propped my elbow onto the window sill and peered at the men. Peeking through the lens of my camera I decided chancing at giving in to my curiosity. With my camera in hand, I had the disguise of taking pictures. This was ok. Just this once.

They were smiling, smoke billowing around them. Their fingers flicked the ashes from their cigarettes. A few had a hand in a pocket, or fingers twisting a ring around a finger. They all had their own personal impulses. There was a tiny pang that hit through my heart. I'd grown close enough to these men to notice their individual eccentrics. I snapped a quick shot of the group and pulled back checking the composition. I hummed, figuring that I'd need to see it on my laptop before I could have a decent opinion about the shot. I leaned forward again, my other hand resting on the lens, turning to zoom in on the one Son I was trying to avoid.

In the corners of his mouth, there was a tiny lifting. If you didn't look close enough, you'd miss the expression altogether but I spent so much time admiring him from afar, that I could pinpoint when his facial features changed. He was smiling, not broadly and definitely not notably but it was still there. There was something about the expression on him.

For Kozik, it was a regular occurrence, but for Happy, it showed something even more genuine. I'd never seen him crack any other kind expression except for closed down when away from the comfort of his club. When he was with them, well then it was an entirely different story. He was a completely different person. I focussed on his lips, watching them move with each word that he spoke. I couldn't hear anything being said but I could imagine him whispering sweet things to me.

I rolled my eyes at myself. There was no way, in all eternity, that Happy would whisper sweet nothings to anyone. He just wasn't that kind of guy. I snapped a quick pic of Kozik and Happy deep in conversation with each other. Phil came up from out of nowhere, his face taking over the entire area of my camera. I jumped back with a small squeak, unready for the abrupt change in scenery.

He flashed me a quick smile, "Time to get going."

"Sounds good."

I placed the camera in my lap and smiled down at him. I buckled myself in, waiting for Phil to get himself settled. Soon enough we were following behind the group once again. I took this time and used it to my advantage. I was in the perfect position to catch their formation. I lifted my camera, with a slight lean out of my window and began snapping away. Capturing these men in their element. The sole purpose of my accompaniment on this excursion.


	13. I Need Some Real Good Lovin

**A/N: Edited 8-13-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Good Lovin' (feat. Miguel) - Ludacris_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I was woken up by a light tap on my shoulder. I jolted forward, smacking the side of my head off the window. I groaned, rubbing my sore spot.

"How long was I out?" I yawned.

Phil stifled his laugh, "About two hours."

I nodded, squinting my eyes in the sunlight. I gazed around at the small back yard where we were parked.

"Where are we?" I asked.

Phil opened his door, "Bakersfield."

I frowned, opening my side, "What's in Bakersfield?"

My question was left unanswered as Phil rounded the front of the van and ducked through the doorway into the house. I grabbed my backpack, and shoved the van door closed. When I turned around, I noticed that the yard was empty; I was all alone. I took a few tentative steps forward, apprehensive about entering a house I wasn't familiar with. I peeked my head through the door, finding the lot of the Sons milling around in various seats. I stood in the entryway, ill at ease and feeling awkward.

This house reminded me a bit of my parent's place. It was simple, and homey. There were two three seater couches and a small old school TV sitting on a stand. There was a plain coffee table in the middle of the couches. A few book shelves that housed many things, not just books. As I gazed around the room, I was struck by the sheer number of photographs there were. They were everywhere and covered almost every inch of the house.

I shuffled past the boys shouting at whatever was on the TV and walked into a narrow hallway. I admired the pictures hanging on the wall. They were all of a woman and her son. At least that was my assumption. As I studied each picture, moving along to take in each one, I watched as the young boy grew into a man; one that I was fairly familiar with. The same man that had me questioning my resolve. A man that was pulling me close in one instant while simultaneously thrusting me away.

I stopped in front of one, where he was grinning. Every one of his teeth was on display. He hand an arm around the woman, in a loving embrace. He couldn't be older than fourteen or fifteen. Any picture that followed this one found him with that trademark frown on his face, but up until this one he sported a wide smile.

"I'm leaving the Prospects and Kozik here with you." I heard his voice as he walked into the hallway.

" _Mijo…_ " A feminine voice followed behind him. She didn't sound pleased with her son.

I turned and watched as his nose flared with frustration, "Ma. It's for your protection."

His mother, who had one hand on her hip, swatted him with her other, "I wouldn't need protection if you weren't – "

His mother stopped speaking when she realized they were no longer alone. Happy raised an eyebrow and followed his mother's gaze. His face immediately shut down when he laid eyes on me. My eyes widened, horrified at what he might be thinking – what she could be thinking. I panicked, pursing my lips together, searching for the right words.

I'd essentially intruded in this woman's home without any kind of introduction, and now she'd caught me snooping around. This day was chalking up to the worst day ever. I felt a blush rise on my face, and my ears began to burn with embarrassment. Everything I did seemed to attract negative attention from Happy. I shouldn't have bothered coming on this trip.

I tucked a stray hair behind my ear, "Sorry. I wasn't eavesdropping."

Neither of them said anything, both just stayed staring at me. Happy's stare turning to a glare, while his mother gazed on. Her look was appraising as if she was sizing me up. A mother's instinct to protect clear within her eyes.

I ground my teeth together, "I'll… uh… I'll just… go."

I spun around on my heel and booked it out of the hallway back into the living room with the rest of the guys.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

"Who was that?" His mother prodded.

He shut his eyes, not ready to deal with his pestering mother, "No one."

"She's not no one." She noted. "You've never brought a woman around here before."

"Ma!" He exclaimed, scandalized at his mother's thought process, "I'm not bringing her anywhere. She's doing a documentary or something," He waved a hand to indicate his disdain for her presence, "Needs to follow us around for pictures, or whatever."

His mother chuckled, patting him loosely on the shoulder, "Ok, _mijo_."

She called out to the rest of the boys, alerting them to food in the kitchen. He heard the start of the rapid footfalls coming towards the them and slipped off to the side. He caught Elle in the rush of throng, being dragged along by Kozik, into the kitchen. She had a wild look in her eyes, similar to one of an animal backed into a corner. He briefly wondered about how she was faring before realizing he shouldn't care and quashed those thoughts.

He'd actually forgotten she was in the van with the Prospect. He wasn't pleased that Clay okayed her for the run, but he couldn't deny that this was probably the only one she'd be safe on. All their other runs always involved open roads and weapons rolled into their belongings. This was one of the ones where they'd actually brought the van with them. The charter agreed not to tell her what kind of business they were on. Keep her need-to-know only. She didn't seem the least bit fazed by that information.

He watched as she was one of the few to get a seat at the tiny kitchen table. Kozik pushing Juice out of the way for her. She was busy laughing at whatever complaint Juice shot her direction when his mother emerged from behind the pantry door, carrying a large tray of tamales. Without any warning, Elle stopped the conversation she was having and stood. She reached for the tray, and after an apologetic smile from her, his mother handed it off.

Elle turned around and set the platter down, sliding it towards the centre of the table. Hands emerged from every corner, grabbing for a homemade snack. His mother glanced in his direction, a telling smirk on her face. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. His mother liked the girl. His mother was also of the opinion that he'd brought Elle around for her approval. This didn't bode well for him. On either side. _How was he going to convince his mother she was just collateral?_

His mother was a meddler. It was her specialty. And here she was, _meddling_. In things she shouldn't be. He wanted nothing to do with Elle. He'd been making that clear to the journalist since his slip up at the wedding. He didn't need the drama of having a woman panting after him.

Although he had to admit, Elle hadn't even broken a sweat at his obvious hostility. She remained easily distant from all his blatant displays. Frustrating for him, it made him want her even more. She didn't even approach him after the wedding. Not to mention at the party last night, she'd held her head high, effectively ignoring his cold shoulder. She hadn't even blinked when he openly took up with the crow eater. It was as if all his efforts at being aloof and indifferent around her were being reversed on its head and she was the one portraying those traits; not him. He was the one chasing after her.

" _Mijo_! I made your favourite." His mother yelled over the loud banter.

Hearing his mother call out, both him and Elle glanced up at the same time. He hadn't realized he was staring at her until now. She caught his eye briefly before flushing and turning back to the table. His mother however, didn't look away. Her eyes flashed with a significant expression. A smirk grew on her mouth but he ignored it. Pushing off the way he trudged his way over to the table.

He saw as Elle felt his presence loom close to her but she was quick to ignore him. She visibly shifted herself, her back to him. He chewed on his lip, watching as she threw herself in to whatever useless conversation was happening amoung the prospects. His mother caught the subtle change in Elle's demeanour. Her eyebrows rose, eyes immediately flicking to her son. She knew him well enough to know that something had happened. This time he managed to avert his mother's gaze.

This only proved whatever assumptions his mother was making. Making her smirk broader. When she finally caught his eye, she winked at him. _Fucking women!_ Elle was going to blow everything out of proportion. With her silly little side glances. Fuel for the fire his mother was building. He should have never let Clay talk him into letting Elle come. His mother was going to be a difficult.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Not long after lunch, I found myself sitting at the tiny kitchen alone. All the Sons had filed out, going out about on their business. This left me with the Prospects, and Kozik, at Happy's mothers house. I made the choice to stay in the kitchen. Away from the boys and Happy's mother. Thankfully I'd brought along my sketchpad.

I had my book opened before me. Doing my best to focus all my attention on the drawings there. In knew there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd be able to concentrate in the living room. Not with Happy's mother hovering about. Potentially watching my every move. It was easier to pretend I wasn't in her home when I was over here by myself.

My pencil slid along the textured paper. I wanted to personalize the Sons of Anarchy Reaper logo. I needed something more subtle; approachable. I'd gone through dozens of sketches. Discarding every single one. I still hadn't come up with one I was comfortable with bringing to Clay for approval. I felt that using their stark Reaper wouldn't have the effect that I wanted. It would put people on edge and I didn't want that. In the long run I wanted people to associate these men with their own brothers, fathers, husbands, boyfriends.

"Cute." I heard the woman speak from over my shoulder.

I jumped, dropping my pencil and inhaling loudly.

She patted my hand, taking the seat next to mine, "Sorry sweetheart. Didn't mean to startle you."

I fumbled with the papers in front of me, mumbling, "It's no problem."

She covered her hand with mine, squeezing my fingers with a feather's touch. I gazed at this woman, taking in her darker skin complexion, brown eyes and black hair. She looked everything like Happy and nothing like him at the same time. If I'd met her on the street I would have never linked her as his mother. At the same time knowing who she was made it immediately obvious. It was strange how many similarities they had, coupled with all the differences.

"I've gathered that your name is Elle." She attempted to break the ice between us.

My cheeks burned. Again at my own rudeness. I hadn't even introduced myself.

I gave her a sheepish nod, "Yes… Mrs. Lowman?"

She laughed, "Oh no, just Leticia and definitely not married."

I smiled, my nerves settling minutely at her friendliness. She took her hand from mine and folded them across her lap. I studied the woman sitting beside me. From a first glance you would never tell, but after being in her presence you could see how frail and thin she appeared. I distantly remembered someone saying something about Happy's mom being sick.

My best guess was cancer, not that I would ever ask though. _How would you even go about doing that? Hey, you look sick, do you have an incurable disease that's slowly killing you?_ Seeing her state brought forth a million questions. _Was she living alone? And how often did Happy come to check on her?_ From my stand point, it seemed like he never left the clubhouse.

"Happy mentioned you were documenting something?" She asked.

"I'm working on a final project for my Masters." I answered.

She pouted with approval and arched a single eyebrow, "Smart girl."

I shrugged, unsure of how to respond.

"What are you trying to portray?" Her question was blunt and straight to the point.

I understood why. This was her son being captured on film. She needed to know what my intentions were. A mother's duty. She had every right to question my intentions. She was obviously trying to save him from being painted in a negative light.

"The basis of my idea is to make the Sons relatable. I want the rest of society to see them as they see themselves. A family." I explained.

She smiled, "I like it."

I sighed, "I'll admit that it's hard for me some days, but for the most part they really are a large loving family."

His mother's smile widened farther than I thought she could manage and I had an inkling that she was reading more into my words than needed. I opened my mouth to say something but was at a loss for how to respond without sounding defensive. There was a loud shouting coming from the backyard and I swung my head in the direction of the sound, registering Kozik's voice. The woman next to me sighed with disappointment. I turned back to her with a question on my face. _Why did she sound disappointed? What was it that she knew that I didn't?_

"They stole the van!" Kozik shouted as he entered the house, "I don't know."

It sounded as though he was on the phone with someone. There was silence following his entry for about thirty seconds then my name was being yelled. I gazed at Leticia for a second longer before standing and making my way to the living room.

I entered the living, a timid expression on my face, "Everything all right?"

The Prospects were all standing and Kozik was shrugging into his cut. I furrowed my brow, concerned.

"You're staying here. Prospects are with me." He commanded.

"What? What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing. Stay here." He walked out the back door, the Prospects trailing after him.

I stood there dumbfounded. I'd just been left completely alone with a woman I barely knew. Not to mention it was Happy's mother. _His mother_. I felt her presence coming up behind me and I side stepped, allowing her room to come forward.

She stopped at my side, and gave a little shrug, "Looks like it's a girl's afternoon."

She smiled at me and I panicked internally. I was about to get friendly with Happy's mother. I shivered at that thought. Suddenly feeling queasy.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Almost two and a half hours later, I was standing in front of the stove, laughing wildly while Leticia retold stories from Happy's youth.

"I'll never be able to look at him the same." I chuckled as I stirred the rice.

The petite woman came over, dropping various vegetables into the pot, "You wouldn't believe the sorts of trouble he used to get into."

"Oh, I believe it." I laughed even louder.

"Ma?" Happy's voice echoed through the house.

"In here, _mijo_." She answered.

I clammed up, concentrating on the bubbling pot in front of me. I was unsure of how Happy would react to my sudden familiarity with his mother. I didn't know how he couldn't expect it, especially after being left alone with her. In reality there wasn't much he could say against it. We'd spent the afternoon getting to know one another.

She asked me question after question about my life, where I grew up, where I went to school, why I wanted to be a journalist. After I'd passed her test, she began opening up about Happy as a child. She had nothing but funny stories to tell. I felt like it made her feel better being able to share with me. Her face lit up as she spoke about Happy, more so as a child than as an adult but it was clear as day how proud she was of the man he'd become.

Happy entered the room and paused. I felt his eyes on the back of my neck and I ignored the urge to turn in his direction.

"Happy!" His mother called, shuffling towards him and pulling him into an embrace, "I've been showing Elle here how to make rice. The _right_ way."

She emphasized the way she thought it should be done. I stifled a laugh, remembering earlier when she criticized the way I cooked rice. Which resulted in the two of us standing here making her coveted recipe.

"We're ready to get going."

His tone was dismissive and I knew he was speaking directly to me. I turned to face the both of them. I lifted the wooden spoon out of the pot, laying it on the counter. Leticia came over, stuffing a paper in my pocket, away from Happy's prying eyes. I already knew what it was. She'd written down her address earlier, telling me that I was welcome to visit her any time I chose.

"For you, _mija_." She spoke loud enough for her son to hear.

I widened my eyes at the pet name she'd given me. I knew enough about Mexican culture to know what Mija stood for. She just refered to me as 'her daughter' in front of Happy. I gave her a quick hug and made my exit. I caught the surprise in Happy's eyes as I passed. I definitely didn't want to hear the conversation what was about to follow my departure.

I grabbed my bag and booked it out the front door. The screen door swung shut just as I heard Happy question his mother's use of the word. I stood on the porch a bit shell-shocked but calmed down once Kozik jumped up the few steps and threw an arm around me.

"Oh, are we friends again?" I joked.

"We've always been friends." He answered with a roll of his eyes.

I joined in on the conversations with Kozik, Jackson and Tig. They were retelling whatever adventure they were on, careful to leave out any gory details, knowing that I didn't want or need to know.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

" _Mija_?" He question left his mouth before he had a chance to think about it.

His mother shrugged, offering no explanation. Happy left it alone. He wasn't about to leave on a sour note. Instead he opted for pulling his mother into another hug.

"We're leaving now." He kissed the top of her head, "Sorry for not spending more time."

She shook her head, "You didn't come here to visit. You came here on business."

He let go with a frown, "Shouldn't matter."

Neither said anything more while Happy turned and made his way to the front door. Before he stepped past the screen Leticia reached out, laying her hand on Happy's forearm. A clear signal for him to stay back one more second.

"Ma?" He questioned.

She gazed up at her son, a man who'd she'd been convinced would never settle down. All she ever wanted for him was to be happy, hence her choice of names. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do to put a smile on that face. From the second Elle walked into her house, she felt it. Even if they didn't know it yet, they were soul mates. Elle was the woman who would complement her son, making him the better man that she knew he was.

However, she knew her son too well. She knew that if she even hinted at what she thought he should do, he would do the complete opposite. He wasn't a man you could tell what to do. He needed to make his own decisions, or at least feel like he was the one calling the shots. At an early age, Leticia discovered a devious way to make her son think he was making his own decisions. She would show him the negative angle of his actions without detailing the way she thought he should decide.

For the most part he made informed and educated decisions with her guidance. It had been a long time since she needed to employ this method of reasoning with her son but this was one decision she wasn't going to let him mess up. She needed to make him see what he was going to lose. Once he sensed that keeping his distance wouldn't prove beneficial, she knew he'd claim the girl for his own. As much as she loved Herman, he was a risk to her own son's happiness. A risk she wasn't willing to take.

She turned her gaze to the blonde woman standing on the front porch, conversing with Kozik.

"Nice girl, Elle is. Seems like Herman's taken a liking to her. Do you think if I ask nicely, he'll bring her to visit me? I did always want a daughter and Herman's close enough to being my second son."

Leticia kept her gaze trained forward but she could see her words sinking in. Happy wouldn't like the way she called out Kozik as her second son. Happy never was good at sharing. Kozik had always been a welcome addition in their household. It had always been clear that while he may be Kozik's brother in the club, there was no way in hell he could consider himself his brother when it came to sharing his mother.

Happy followed his mother's gaze, letting her speak her mind. Once her statement sunk in, he whipped his head towards her. She smiled, the seed was planted. Happy stared at his mother in shock. He caught on early to her manipulations. What he didn't expect was to have her try her hand in this one. This wasn't a common situation. She never tried to get him paired up with women. She knew it was a losing game.

He never brought a woman home to his mother. He knew no one would ever live up to the standards she had set for him. It was one reason why he never settled. Now he'd unintentionally brought one along with him, with no reason for his mother to meet her and she went and approved of the girl. This made keeping away from her exponentially more difficult. As if she sensed they were speaking about her, Elle spun around as everyone else made their way to their bikes. She bounded back over to the door. She wrapped his mother in her arms for a farewell hug.

"Leticia." She smiled, "Thank you for letting me stay."

He stood there, in shock hearing his mother's first name fall from Elle's lips. _What had happened while they were off trying to get their guns back?_ He came back to his mother referring to Elle as _mija_ and to Elle being allowed to use his mother's first name. _What hellish mistake had he made by leaving the two alone together?_

"Elle!" Kozik called, "I have an extra helmet for you."

Elle spun away from the Lowman's. She skipped down the steps and stopped upon reaching Kozik's bike. He was already straddling it with a hand outstretched brandishing the helmet for her. Happy caught his mother's gaze out of the corner of his eye. He never thought the day would come. He always took his mother's recommendations to heart, even when he disagreed. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He turned from his mother and watched as Elle strapped the helmet on to her head. With pronounced steps he was down the stairs in seconds, striding towards his own bike.

"Elle." He spoke as he passed her. She stopped her attempts at trying to get on Kozik's bike. "You're with me."

He swung his leg over his bike and pulled his own helmet off the handlebar. She whipped her head between him and Kozik.

"I thou – … Ok." She stuttered.

He waited, patience wearing thin. She must have caught on to his waning and walked over. All the boys were watching intently at the change in riders. Earlier that morning he was adamant about not ever letting a woman ride bitch, and now he was telling Elle she was riding with him. Kozik seemed the most put off. There was a slight scowl on his face not entirely enthused that his brother had decided he was going to finally lay claim to the girl. He felt her small hand grasp his shoulder and based on the heat that coursed through his body at her touch, knew he was making the right decision.


	14. May Your Heart Always Be Joyful

**A/N: Edited 8-14-2017**

 **I lied. This is probably my favourite chapter.**

 **Playlist:** _Forever Young (Bob Dylan Cover) - Audra Mae & the Forest Rangers_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I did a double take, not registering that Happy was speaking to me. It was the expression on Kozik's face that brought me to full realization. I faced Happy, who'd already passed and was sitting on his Dyna. My eyes widened as I fully processed his words.

"I thou – … Ok." I stuttered.

I began the short trek to his bike, all the while feeling like time was standing still. I couldn't recall a moment in time I'd been this nervous about anything. Sure there were times when I was a ball of nerves, but nothing mounted up to the same feeling that I was experiencing right now. My entire body felt like an open ending, each touch and motion amplified throughout me.

I gripped Happy's shoulder, climbing on the bike, straddling the seat behind him. I'd never been on a motorcycle before. I was mildly more comfortable with the idea of being behind Kozik, as I'd already expressed my ineptness when it came to riding. Being paired with Happy made that ineptness much more embarrassing. I took a deep breath, and wrapped my arms around Happy's middle. The pit of my stomach dropped the instant my feet hooked into the metal rests on the side. Happy shifted, flicking up the kickstand and I squeaked in protest.

" _Ohmygod_!" The expression escaped all in one breath, "Don't be a baby."

He hadn't even turned the bike on yet. I felt a low rumble roll through his body. He was laughing at me. If I wasn't terrified about falling off I'd shove him. Luckily for him, I was frozen in terror. He got a pass this one time. He flicked the ignition, the roar of the engine vibrating through me. I tightened my arms around him while squeezing my eyes shut. In order to save myself from more fright, I tucked my head in against his firm shoulder.

Before kicking off I felt his rough hand curl around my wrists, giving a reassuring squeeze. My stomach plummeted for a second time, but this time it was arousal shooting through me. I gulped. This was neither the time nor place to have such strong emotions. Hell, I wasn't even sure what caused this sudden change in him, but there was no way that he was on the same level of infatuation as I was. Unfortunately I couldn't help the unconscious response to his touch. I snuggled in closer, tightening my hold and fitting into the grooves of shoulder blades.

He pushed off, his feet settling in on the bars in front and I made sure I was secure as he slowly rolled down the driveway. Unfortunately my nerves were no match for this kind of thrill. They were still standing on edge, as if I'd fall off at any second to my inevitable doom. The bike rode along smoothly, allowing me time to soothe my frayed nerves. When the first turn came I let out a startled squeal, causing another wave of laughter through my biker.

"Shut up." I shout-whispered in his ear.

There was no way to tell if he heard me but I was ninety-nine percent sure he did. We rode along, through the streets, tilting gently with every turn. Regardless of the steady speed, each turn, tilt and bend, caused my body to quake with unease. I eventually calmed down enough to open my eyes, but remained plastered his back. I watched the scenery move past me in a subdued rush. Before I knew it we were boarding the freeway on ramp and I began panicking as his bike consistently picked up in acceleration.

I clamped my eyes shut again, thankful that I had on a backpack. It felt as though it was making heavier. Or at least tethered. With the force of the wind whipping around us, I really did fear I was going to fly off. I'd never given it much thought before but, it took a lot to be able to ride a Harley with ease. It felt as though I might shake right off the back if I didn't have Happy as my anchor. I had a new profound appreciation for anyone – _man or woman_ – who rode these monstrous vehicles. There was no way I'd be getting on the back of one of these again any time soon.

After a good ten minutes of driving at ungodly speeds, I felt ready to open my eyes again. Fortunately for me my head was turned sideways. Happy's torso broke the wind around him, giving me the opportunity to see what was around. The boys were scattered around the two lane highway. I could hear the roar of their engines over the rushing wind and it gave me an odd sense of tranquility. I'd always loved the open road. I think everyone did. There was much more to it than that. There was something appealing about having no immediate destination. A long drive, to clear one's thoughts.

I shifted, careful not to disturb my rider. Even after all the obvious hostility between Happy and I, I found it comfortable sitting behind him. If I were to be completely honest, I felt like a queen. There was just something about being the only other person on the back of his motorcycle. In my dream world, it was as if he was parading me around. Showing me off as his. I laughed internally. I was being such a child. Creating intricate fantasies about why I wished he asked me to ride with him. My crush was reaching exponentially ridiculous levels.

I had to admit though he may not be on my level, this was at least some kind of progress. I couldn't be sure what his end game was. But, in this moment I was fine with being close, getting a chance to hold him. I straightened my back, nestling higher against him. I peeked over his shoulder, the gusts pushing hard against my sunglasses. He was travelling close behind Tig and next to Chibs. I saw no signs of Kozik, which made me think he was behind us. Chibs glanced over, noticing as I gazed around. He tipped his head in my direction and I shot him a quick smile. Now that I was used to it, I liked being on his bike.

About an hour and a half had passed without any interruption. I had proceeded to lay my head against the back of Happy's shoulder, relaxing fully into his frame. My arms were no longer constricting around him but instead were comfortably wrapped around. I felt as he turned his head, and nodded. I shifted back looking up to see what was going on. Happy veered off to the left, leaving the rest of the Sons. The group remained on course, heading straight.

I raised an eyebrow, unclear about why we were disbanding. I contemplated asking him out loud where we were headed but, knew that even if he did hear me his answer would most likely get lost in the air. I settled back down, putting more trust in him than I imagined. I was letting him take me wherever it was he had in mind.

It wasn't much later that I recognized the highway we were on. He diverted to route 1, driving us along the coast. I moved my head to the lay in the other direction, facing west and staring out at the open waters. I loved living on the west coast, not only because the weather was generally warm all year round, but also because the ocean was close by. The water was shining in the late afternoon sun, reflecting a deep yellow out to us. I loosened my grip enough to manoeuvre myself to get a better look. I was captivated with the view.

I never really appreciated the location of this highway. It was a major tourist attraction but most of us Californians undervalued the route. The coast line was vast with beautiful views, always up for the taking and now, on the back of a Harley, I was fully comprehending why so many people travelled this way to drive along it.

We spent the remainder of our afternoon heading towards SanFran, coasting along the route. I had my head leaning against Happy's back enjoying the afternoon view, when for a second time he veered off to his left. I straightened, watching as we turned off the highway. We came to a stop along the side of the road, overlooking a particularly open spot. He pushed out the kickstand and I took the hint.

I attempted a steady landing off the side, appearing to lose all gracefulness I possessed in the motion. I huffed when I finally righted myself. Happy watched the entire display. When I turned towards him, he was sporting a sly grin. My cheeks heated, knowing he watched my clumsy self. In an effort to fight the embarrassment, I rolled my eyes. Coming around the back of the Harley, I matched his position. Together we leaned against the seat, overlooking the ocean. We gazed out at the scenery, listening to the rolling waves, and seagulls cry.

I pulled the helmet off, giving my hair a chance to soak up the salt in the air. I ran a hand through my locks, fluffing them from the setting hat head. Happy reached into is jean pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Tapping the bottom of the package, he grabbed a smoke.

Leaving the cigarette to hang from his lips, he cupped his hand around the end. His other hand searched through his pockets, eventually finding a match. Flicking the match with his thumb, it lit and he hovered it over the end of his smoke. He inhaled deeply before exhaling. He was careful to angle away from me on his exhale. In the next second I found the cigarette hovering in my line of vision. His offering.

I chuckled with a shake of my head, "When have you ever seen me smoke?"

He gazed at me out of the corner of his eye, obviously thinking about it and then shrugged in response. I grinned broader, knowing that I did enjoy a little smoke here and there. Just not tobacco. I turned back to the ocean. The sun was setting now. Both our gazes were set on watching the changing colours. It was in that moment that Happy planned this. Or at least gave it some thought. Not a long-time plan. It was something he must have come up with while on the road back to Charming.

His detour was deliberate. He decidedly took this route so that we could see the sun set on the water. I leaned sideways – the tiniest distance from him – to take in his profile. His eyes flicked in my direction. He noticed the change in demeanour but never actually fully turned in my direction. If I hadn't known better, I would say he'd done this with all the other girls he took on dates. However, I knew that in the entire time he'd been part of the Sons of Anarchy, no one had ever seen a woman on the back of his bike.

Letting all pretenses of my infatuation fall, my mind began to whirl. _Was this his version of a date?_ How we ended up here, I didn't know. Just this morning he was acting as if I didn't exist. I rounded back to the thought of this being a first date. If it was, it was incredibly romantic. A word I was positive wasn't in his vocabulary. My inner teen flushed. Ecstatic with this new development. It brought me back to his mother. _What had their conversation been about after I went outside? Had she picked up on my feelings for him?_ _Had he told her about the kiss?_ I had no idea. I didn't even know what his dynamic with his mother was.

My mind reeled making me highly aware of the minute distance between us. It couldn't be anymore than a centimetre. There was a pulse of strong energy between us. Or at least what I was imagining to be. Happy continued to gaze forward, smoking away. I bit down on my lower lip, fighting the huge grin. If this was his softer side showing, then I liked it. Hell, I even liked him when he wasn't like this.

I relaxed backwards. This was a perfect way to end the day. I readjusted my position, watching the sun continually go down. The colours switching between oranges, pinks, golds, crimsons, purples and yellows. There was a numbing sensation on the side of my face and I glanced up to find Happy watching me. His gaze never wavered, even when my eyes met his. I offered him a small smile. It may have been a trick of my imagination but I swore I saw a twitch of his lips. A firm blush rested on my cheeks as I faced forward again. The numbing feeling never went away.

Every time he was around today, I'd been scarce. I knew he didn't want me there. I over corrected my steps, ensuring that we barely crossed paths. I couldn't place the change, or when it happened. That was fine. It occurred and now here I was, watching the sunset with the object of my affections. I swallowed, a knot forming in my stomach. I glanced down out of the corner of my eye. If I moved less than half a centimetre, my hand would be touching the side of his thigh.

Under the ruse of stretching, I slid closer. My leg sidled against his. My entire body hummed at the feeling. If he noticed, he didn't let on. I let my hands fall into my lap, clasping them together. I peeked up at him through my hair and he was flicking the ash away from his smoke. He must have felt my gaze because he glimpsed down at me, from the corners of his eyes. I didn't shy away, but neither did I meet him head on. A long moment passed while we watched one another.

Not long after that, the sun had set completely. He was the first to move, indicating we continue our drive. I waited as he straddled his bike, before climbing on behind him. My fingers gripped into his shoulder as I used his body strength for leverage. I settled against him, siding my legs in against his. A rush of heat pooled in my lower abdomen.

I let my hand drop from his shoulder, hooking around his middle. Of his own accord, he reached back for my other hand. His fingers curled around my wrist. I gasped at the contact. He brought my arm around, connecting it with my other. My heart thudded in my chest. Loud enough that it blocked all hearing from my ears. I moulded myself into him. My chest pressed snugly into his back. He shifted slightly as I got comfortable. I laid my head on his shoulder, keeping my face turned towards the ocean.

He pulled away, accelerating at a lazy pace. I kept my hold on him loose, allowing him better movement. At the same time, my embrace was possessive. I let my hands splay against the hard body in front of me. I allowed myself to fully embrace him. Not just hang on for dear life. I wanted to remember this. Enjoy it. There was no telling where we went from here, but I wasn't going to let this chance slip away from me. He followed route 1 all the way to San Francisco. The rushing wind and breaking waves our only soundtrack.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

We drove straight up through San Francisco before he veered onto the 80 that took us across the gulf. Once we were in Oakland he continued North on the 580. Straight through to Berkeley. He took the proper exit off the highway, slowing to a regular speed for the streets. He maneuvered through the streets like he knew them. As if he'd been though Berkeley a thousand times. It wasn't until we were approaching my building that I realized I never gave him my address.

That thought brought back some former trepidation about the Sons. It reminded of the time they broke in. I shouldn't have been as shocked as I felt. Of course, he knew where I lived. They probably all did. I inhaled deeply, quelling my reservations. They were trying to protect themselves. I was still an outsider to them at that point. I didn't need to bring up any awkward questions. Not now. Not after the beautiful afternoon we shared.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a little voice noted that I couldn't just leave this alone. I'd eventually have to voice my concerns. Talk to them about respecting my privacy. I would. Just on another day. By the time Happy came to a full stop, I was back to admiring the way I fit against this particular biker. He turned off the ignition but kept the bike held upright and straight. I slid away from him. As slow as humanly possible. Drawing out the last few moments I had him like this.

Taking my time, I lifted my leg over to the right side before slipping down onto the pavement. I immediately regretted the entire afternoon. I threw my hands out behind me, stumbling backwards into him. One of his arms caught me. He held me still, waiting until I was steady enough on my own. My entire body was jello. I could still feel the vibration of the Harley in my legs. Happy smirked. My eyes narrowed at him. _How had I not thought about the aftereffects?_ I gave myself a minute before trying to move again.

Once I was certain I wouldn't fall on my ass, I straightened out. His arm dropped from around me, back to resting on his leg. I reached up and unbuckled my helmet. With one hand, I dipped my fingers under the lip and pulled it off. I instantly shook my head to dislodge the phantom feeling. Running my fingers through my hair with one hand, I held out the helmet to him with my other. He grabbed it, tucking it away into one of the saddle bags. I watched him in silence as he redid the buckle of the pouch.

When he was finished he sat back up. His familiar air of confidence saturating the area. I tucked my fingers behind my ear, imagining the stray hair needing tending too. After spending an entire afternoon wrapped around him you'd think I wouldn't feel this bashful. I wished that I had something to say. Even something trivial. Anything I thought to bring up was either off limits. Or would result in a long, potentially explosive, argument.

I didn't want that. I wanted to end on a good note. One where we both stood on equal ground. Both confused about where we were headed but, still enjoying each other's presence. We idled in silence for another few minutes before he ultimately decided it was time to leave. He shifted forward getting ready to depart when I remembered I drove out to Charming this morning.

"Oh." I reached out to catch his attention, "Uhm – my car is still at TM."

He nodded, "It'll be here when you wake up, keys in your mailbox."

"Okay." I answered.

Another minute of calm passed through us before Happy settled back on his seat. One hand gripped a handle bar, while the other flicked ignition. The rumbling of the engine built between us. He tilted to his left, one foot in it's holster. I was hit with a whim. This was the perfect moment. I took a deep breath rounding up all my courage. Spontaneity at it's best.

Before backed away I took a tentative step towards him. Leaning in, I cupped his face in a tender motion. His entire being froze at my touch. I shuffled closer, stepping down off the curb. I pressed my lips to his cheek. It wasn't long, but it was significant. This was my olive branch. This was my show of budding affection.

"Thank you." I pulled back so that my lips were close to his ear, "For today."

I moved backwards allowing my hand to linger in place. I continued to back away until my hand fell away of its own accord. His gaze on me was intense as he mulled over my actions. He didn't voice anything, but before pushing off he granted me a curt nod. I stood in place, on the sidewalk. I watched as he coasted down the hill, eventually turning left and out of view.

My heart was pounding in my chest. He hadn't pushed me away. While he didn't reciprocate my sign of fondness, it was still another step in the way of development. I sighed, staring at the spot where his bike last sat before turning away. _Where did this leave us? Would he pick up from where he left off last night? Was this just an anomaly in the short time knowing each other? Or was this going to shift everything drastically?_

I turned back towards my building, dragging my feet as I went. In hind sight, I realized I hoped he would've grabbed my face and kissed me with a fiery passion. My imagination was once again getting the best of me. Regardless of that, I couldn't say I was disappointed. Not this time. Today was easily one of the best days of my life. A hardened man, known for his callous and cruel nature, had done something so tender – _so passionate_ – that even the most die-hard romantic wouldn't have been able to top an act like his. I smiled, unlocking the door to my apartment, unable to feel anything but joy.


	15. Intermission: Someone to Numb the Pain

**A/N: Edited 8-14-2017**

 **Playlist:** _Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

"I'm looking for an –" The man standing in front of the reception desk stared down at his opened planner, "Elle Clarke?"

Casey glanced up, barely registering the smartly dressed man, "Name?"

"Adam Johnson, from National Geographic." He answered.

Casey dropped her pen and stared up at him, "Did you say National Geographic?"

Casey took in the ice blue eyes and dark hair of the newcomer. Her eyes widened comically. Elle was going to keel over when she heard who was here.

"Yes," Mr. Adam Johnson of National Geographic smiled, "I'm here to offer Elle a piece in our magazine."

Casey's mouth dropped into an 'o', shocked and pleased at his declaration. She jumped out of her chair, tearing off towards the first floor to ceiling piece.

"I'll be right back!"

Her shout echoed in the front of the gallery, leaving the man to stand shell-shocked and alone. She ran through the patrons, careful to nudge them gently. Her voice bounced off the walls, searching for Elle. She caught sight of the shoulder length bob, bee-lining for that blonde hair. Once she was within arm's length of her boss, she clamped a hand down on her shoulder.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I spptted my petite assistant rushing through the crowd of viewers. I narrowed my eyes slightly as I heard her call my name. She jumped up, waving, trying to catch my attention but I didn't look up. I was busy with a potential. Someone who was interested in buying a piece or two. The closer Casey got, the more obnoxious she became. Finally I snapped my gaze to her, giving her the telltale 'in a minute' signal with my eyes. She promptly ignored that and dashed over.

Her hand gripped my shoulder as she gasped for breath, "Elle! There's someone at the front for you."

"Can it wait a few minutes?" I flashed her a semi-amused smile, "I'm in the middle of something here."

Casey turned to the elderly man in question.

With a placating smile she shut down my entire conversation, "I'm sorry sir, but Elle has an important meeting to attend too. Can I show you to the next segment in the piece?"

Laying a soft hand on his upper back, Casey began to guide the man over to the few shots of Gemma and the rest of the women. She tossed a wink over her shoulder at me, wiggling her eyebrows. I gave her a confused pout and mouthed a confused 'what?' at her. She didn't answer, just waved her hands in a shooing motion at me. I took a deep breath, sighing. I spun around, weaving through the crowd. There was only one way to find out what she was hiding up front.

I loved Casey but, seeing as she only graduated last May she was still green to this whole business. She was prone to overexcitement and I learned – _very early_ – to take her enthusiasm with a grain of salt. I could only handle so many let downs of potential magazine pieces before it started to wear me down. However, based on her reaction there was inkling of anticipation building.

I was just about to round the corner when it hit me. Making a sudden pause I calculated what her reaction could've meant. _Was this it? Was this the moment? Had he come?_ I reached past my Burberry infinity scarf and fiddled with the chain hidden there. It'd been a few weeks since Casey put everything together and she spent every day sitting diligently at the front desk. I tried reasoning with her, telling her that it was pointless. Not to mention she wasn't really helping any by just sitting around. All of my warnings fell on deaf ears. She was determined to stay put, keeping an eye out, ready to jump and call for me.

When I rounded the corner, and didn't spot a black leather cut, I visibly slouched. I could kill that girl. Getting my hopes up like that. _Again_. She probably forgot her station in the excitement of whatever reason she called me up here for. There was, however, a different man, in an expensive suit standing awkwardly by.

I tapped him lightly on the shoulder, tilting my head around, "Hello?"

He jumped a little and I backed away with an apologetic smile. He gazed at me for two solid minutes, seemingly lost in a daze.

"Elle, I assume?" He finally asked.

I nodded, "That's me. Can I help you?"

He was quiet for another minute before starting, "Your assistant?" I nodded with confirmation at his question, "She didn't tell you why I'm here?"

I frowned, "No. Is there something wrong?"

I took in his appearance one more time, noticing now that he looked incredibly similar to a lawyer. My imagination kicked into overdrive, coming to a thousand different conclusions as to why a lawyer would be looking for me. Most notably was that something had finally happened to the man I left behind years ago. I'd been waiting to see if I'd ever get caught up in their turmoil, knowing that they were always in some sort of trouble. _Had the Sheriff mentioned that I was heavily involved with a member? Was this my past catching up with me?_ My subconscious briefly reminded me that Casey was excited about whoever this was. That was enough to quell my need for immediate panic but laid substantial ground work for late night anxieties. Before I had a chance to voice my concerns, the man in front of me spoke.

"Oh no, there's nothing wrong. The media has been in a frenzy over your exhibit and I'm here to offer you a spread in our magazine." He explained.

I raised my eyebrows, "Wow. Um, sorry what magazine was that?"

He chuckled, "Didn't I say? No? I apologize. Let me introduce myself: I'm Adam from National Geographic."

I froze, my eyes wide as saucers.

"What? Did you say – ?" I stuttered trying to repeat the publications name.

Adam smiled, pulling his card out of his back pocket, "National Geographic." He glanced around, "Your little piece here has been the talk of the town. NatGeo wants to get first dibs at showcasing your talents."

I stared down at the card he placed in my hand, still at a loss for words. I shuffled around the desk and plopped down into the chair there.

"Wow." I whispered.

Adam remained silent, his smile never fading.

I glanced up at him, "This is for real." He nodded. "Wow." I repeated.

I was in a complete daze, absolutely shocked and unable to come up with a proper response. _How do you respond to having your dreams literally come true?_ I never in all my life, thought I would get a feature in National Geographic.

"I'll give you a minute." Adam's voice broke through my silence, realizing that I needed some time to comprehend the turn of events.

Gone where my worries of a certain gang, replaced with unbridled joy. This was something I planned on having to work my entire life on in order to achieve. Now here it was being dropped into in the palm of my hands. My eyes were glazed over as I sat behind desk. _Who knew that shadowing a gang of bikers would get me my five seconds of fame?_ I let out a breath and straightened my back.

I glanced around when I realized Adam was no longer standing directly in front of me. I searched the main area only to find him now disappearing around the corner. I trailed after him, hoping that my reaction didn't put him off from his original offer. I caught up to him as he was assessing one of my first pictures. Gemma on her cellphone outside TM.

I extended my hand, "I apologize for my breakdown over there."

"Nothing to worry about. It happens a lot." He joked, shaking my hand in kind.

I nodded, "Thank you and yes, a thousand times yes. I want to be featured in NatGeo."

"I'm glad." His free hand cupped around our clasped hands.

"Do you want a tour?" I asked, hoping that I could show him everything.

He frowned, "I'd love one, but unfortunately I have another meeting to get too."

"Oh." I voiced.

"But, there's a lot that we need to go over. Would you be open to meeting for dinner, sometime?" He asked in a tentative tone.

It took me a minute to breakdown the tone of his voice. I furrowed my eyebrows when I came to a conclusion.

I tilted my head to the side, "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He blushed, "You caught me." He lifted both hands into the air, "I'll admit I wasn't expecting to be this forward, but they've been raving about your work and am extremely interested in getting to know you."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised at his confession. _Who was they? And how had it gotten back to him, at National Geographic?_

"Can I assume your answer is a yes?" His question was timid.

I gave him a shy smile, "I guess I could spare a few hours for a fan."

We both laughed at my lame attempt of a joke.

I handed him my own personal business card, "On the back is the gallery's office number, and my cell phone number. Give me a call and we can arrange a time to get together."

He took care to put my business card in the front of his day planner. In a place that would constantly remind him of its presence. I walked with him back to the front. We parted at the door where I watched as he slipped into a sleek black Mercedes. Out of politeness, I waited until he reversed out of his spot and was on his way. When I turned to make my way back inside, I could see Casey poking her head around the corner. When she spotted me she came bounding over to me.

"Oh. My. God!" I exclaimed when she reached me.

She squealed, "I can't believe it! You're going to be in National Geographic. And not one of those short stints on their website. The actual magazine. They're going to give you a spread!"

"I can't believe this is really happening." I reached out to her and pulled her into a hug.

She laughed, "Did you see the eyes on that guy? So cute!"

I smirked at her astute observation, "Well you know… He may have asked me out. On a date."

"What?!" She pulled back and glared at me, "Are you serious?"

I nodded, laughing louder at the blatant jealousy in her voice. She let me have my moment before squealing.

"This is so exciting. What are you going to wear? Have you picked an outfit yet? Let me take you shopping. You suck at getting dressed up. You aren't allowed to wear running shoes. Or flats."

Casey had let go of me and was sauntering off towards the desk, for who knows what, while I let her imagination run its course. Adam and I hadn't even officially picked a time or date and here she was already planning my outfit. This girl was going to be the death of me. If she wasn't such an amazing assistant, we wouldn't have stayed together as business partners this long.

I took a small glance at the group picture of the Sons that started the gallery off. My eyes lingered on one man. The one I was spending so much time trying to run from. _Was this the final chapter? Our finale?_ I just agreed to go on a date with a different man. The first date I'd been on since him. Maybe this was the end after all. The gallery was closing in two weeks, and he still hadn't shown. I guess it was time to finally come to terms with the fact that the way we ended things was never going to change.


	16. I've Never Met No One Like You

**A/N: Edited 1-1-2018**

 **Playlist:** _Midnight Serenade - OMI_

 **Dislcaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

Waking up the morning after our drive was disorienting. My entire body was sore from the stress of being on a motorcycle for a long duration of time. Having never done that kind of trek before, I was caught off guard. I groaned and stretched out all my limbs. Regardless of the physical toll the ride took, I was floating somewhere in the clouds. A goofy grin was plastered on my mouth. I bit my lip, staring up at the ceiling, recalling every second from the day before. The heat from the memories warmed my cheeks, and I had to bury my innocent joy in the pillow beside me.

With care, I rolled myself out of bed. I grabbed the hair clip on my side table and threw my hair up into a messy twist. Drifting through my morning routine, each moment from the day before popped back into existence. With each blink I could see the setting sun, or the smoke wafting between us, or the subtle dimple in his cheek. The one emphasized by his scar. Or when nothing but the crashing waves could be heard, as we leaned side-by-side, enjoying the quiet. Alone. It was all those tiny moments that were highlighted in my mind.

Without any conscious effort, I dressed. I continued floating through the motions and set the kettle to boil. A warm cup of tea was the perfect setting for this day. Donned in my favourite oversized knit sweater, and steaming mug folded between my fingers, I sat in the vast windows on the northside of my apartment. I settled against the glass, peering down the street. Another guiltless smile grew. True to his word, I found myself staring down at where my car was parked. It wasn't in my usual space, but his promise was kept.

It wasn't until hours later, that I went down into the lobby. Exactly as he'd said last night, my car keys were sitting against the mailbox indicated with my apartment number. With a content sigh, I scooped them up to bring them back upstairs. I managed to take a moment and remind myself that this was against the rules. I wasn't supposed to be getting wrapped up with anyone. This was a project; a job. Not a free for all. I rolled my eyes at my inner monologue and forced myself to ignore that tiny seed of doubt. I was going to be around for a while. I could enjoy it for the time being.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Since the day trip to Bakersfield and back, I was raring to get back to Charming. Unfortunately for me, that wasn't in the cards. With additional assignments, and mandatory attendance, I had to stay in Berkeley for a couple of weeks. It wasn't all bad, because it did give me time to start sorting through some of the stills I'd already captured. The huge white board in my apartment was covered with different sub-categories, and a layout for how I wanted this project presented. I was even making headway with a hand drawn Reaper. One step closer to having their logo becoming more approachable.

Thankfully, two weeks in, I was able to finally make my way back to the clubhouse.

It was a beautiful, and sunny morning as I drove into the compound. I was surprised to see so many members milling around. Especially at 10 am. Smiles were sent my way as I parked and turned my car off. I made my way towards the group hanging around the picnic bench. It was Bobby who let me know the club was experiencing some down time, and without anything better to do, they all just hung out at the shop, and clubhouse.

I slid onto the bench between Bobby and Chibs, letting them tell me about everything I'd missed. Without drawing too much attention to myself, I glanced around, searching. I spotted his Harley, but not him. I shot a look up to the shop and saw two feet poking out from under one of the cars. WIth a slight tilt to my head, I saw a clear indication that it was Happy underneath the vehicle. I happily watched him work. It wasn't until Chibs nudged me that I realized I zoned out. Chibs chuckled and Bobby gave me a one-armed squeeze. I rolled my eyes, diverting my gaze and rejoining the conversation.

It wasn't too long after that, that I felt a shift in the overall dynamic. All the Sons were cordial with me. Even ones I hadn't really spoken too. Kozik was suddenly scarce, and the Prospects were avoiding me, especially Phil. However, the topping on the cake was when Gemma came over. She took a moment to stop by and greet me, a crow eater in tow. While we made small talk, the crow eater with her deliberately avoided my eye. I arched an eyebrow at Gemma, who also noticed the exchange. Gemma smirked but didn't say anything. I looked to Chibs, who was also smiling but remained mum on the interaction. I was easily distracted from any concerns over their behaviour when the clubhouse door sprang open and Tig shouted my name.

It was around lunchtime when everything began making sense. I managed to have a quick hello-goodbye with Kozik but he hurried away so fast it wasn't anything more than that. Soon after, Happy emerged from the garage, wiping his hands down with a rag. I gazed over at him. Seeing the expression on his face clarified everything. It all clicked into place. They knew. Everyone knew. Heat rushed to my face and I fought off the need to cover up. My eyes widened with the realization, and Happy's mouth turned up into a mischievous smirk as he gauged my reaction.

With the abrupt understanding, I turned my back and dropped down onto the bench. To avoid any ribbing from any of the guys around me, I pulled my bag onto the table and began pulling everything out, in hopes to find a distraction. It was all for naught, because a presence loomed next to me, as the body leaned against the table. Happy had come over, and deliberately placed himself beside me.

In all honesty, I wasn't one hundred percent what they actually did know, but I had it on good authority that there were some indications made - realizations having come to - putting me in a position that connected me exclusively to Happy. And him to I. It was clear from the way the crow eaters wouldn't speak, or even look at me. Gemma made a show of being even more friendly with me, Tara was acknowledging me on a more personal level, Phil was nowhere to be seen, and Kozik wouldn't stop to talk.

I sighed. I didn't know enough about their culture to fully comprehend the changes, but I knew for a fact that it was proving to be a drastic change in dynamics. Especially with the way he was purposely putting himself in my space. I chanced a look up to find him watching me intently. He was nodding his head, an answer to a question asked by someone else, but his eyes were all for me. I rolled my lips together in contemplation. _Had I unknowingly positioned myself into the inner circle of the Sons_? His dark eyes searched my face. He was testing me, looking to see if there was a shadow of doubt. Any inclination that I was about to up and run. I grinned, knowing that – _while there was still an inkling in the back of my mind_ – I was actually ok with the proceedings.

Happy's approval of my mind state was written all over his posture. He visibly relaxed, his guard lowered, and his blank mask dropped. Without any conscious effort, I shifted towards him. There weren't any rushed feelings. We could take our time. Grow comfortable in each other's presence.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

The weeks began blending together. With the storm of the first half of the semester finishing, I was left with empty days. We were now being tasked with fully immersing ourselves into our projects. There were still classes running, but they were more or less for show. Most of us just booked time during office hours to update our professors. I'd managed to keep as many details out from my check-in's, attempting to keep the mystery alive. All the professors were expressing genuine interest in my project. I was already on the Dean's list, but they were intrigued with the prospect of my impeding assignment. There was one day a week where we had a mandatory class, but even then, the professors weren't troubled if we missed it. It was refreshing to have the free reign in my education. Especially since this was my Master's project. Something that was going to make or break a career. Due to this lapse in classes, I found myself spending all my waking time in a small town, a few hours outside of the city.

Not a lot had changed since that fateful date, but at the same time, everything was different. True to everything about Happy's character. He didn't make any extravagant gestures of affection. He was quiet and reserved in his changes. Neither of us had taken any steps towards moving farther then we'd made it, but there was also the obvious undercurrent that we were together. Every time I made it out to Charming, Happy was there. Even if he was busy working in the garage, he made a point to take a break and sit with me. There wasn't a grand display of togetherness, but we always took a moment to be aware of the others presence.

We may not have been, kissing, or speaking sweet nothings to one another, but we were constantly revolving around the other. A simple touch here, and there. A hand on my shoulder, or lower back. A lean into his side, or pressing of our thighs against each other. Tiny, intermittent hints dropped at every opportunity. He was making it clear to everyone that I was his. I was with him. Simultaneously, I did the same. Signaling to the rest that he was mine. He was with me. He no longer avoided me. He no longer pushed me away. Gone was his anger and mistrust. Replaced with something else entirely.

Under the ruse of documenting their daily lives, I spent all my time in their world. Immersing myself farther and farther down the rabbit hole. I was no longer listed as 'the outsider'. I was becoming one of them. Comfortable enough to come and go as I pleased. My name known by everyone acquainted with the club. Crow eaters were quiet about their typical gossip with me in the vicinity. Gemma drove full force with inviting me to Sunday dinners, Tara extended the opportunity of allowing me to play and interact with her sons, and Lyla, while she was already a good friend, was now more open with her life coinciding with the club.

Being a frequent presence at the clubhouse, a routine had built between us. Neither of us entirely aware of it, until it had become such a part of our schedules, we were at a loss when something got in the way. There were two smoke breaks a day, where he would spend a moment of quiet away from the mess of garage work. Each time those breaks occurred, I was there. On his one lunch break, he sought me out, taking the time to just sit with me. We were coexisting, gravitating towards the other. There was a keen sense of togetherness between us. Not necessarily in the traditional way, but wholly in the literal sense. We both witnessed the acknowledgment others had on our new development. The Sons were fascinated by the subtly of Happy's interactions.

I had to laugh because conventionally, it was the woman who wanted the major declaration of love. That was always the sealing factor in knowing they had someone as theirs. Having watched Hollywood movies all my life, I figured that's what I would've wanted. Turns out, Happy's statement was powerful in its own right. Even the crow eaters had sensed it. There was still the typical fawning he allowed to continue, but he never let them approach him in any other manner. He never deviated from his focus on me. There was an entirely high concentration of weight to a statement of that kind. Stronger than the loud, obvious, shouts of affection. It made me feel important.

As the days went on, I would find myself studying the man. He'd yet to kiss me again, and I wasn't going to be the one to initiate that contact for a second time. It was up to him to take that plunge. I was patient. I could wait. Instead of any PDA, I stuck to watching him work. Instead of sticking to the bench, I would perch on the stool in the garage and observe him. It was another routine to add to our already existing ones. Gemma and Lyla had even taken to hinting at allowing me to spend the night, but I was always quick to shut them down. Whatever was going on between Happy and I, wasn't at the point where I needed to spend my nights in Charming.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

It was early in the morning when I pulled into TM. I found a few bikes scattered around, a telling sign about the state of the clubhouse. I spotted Happy's bike parked in its usual place. I never got around to asking if he had a house of his own, but I was beginning to suspect that maybe he didn't. I rounded the edge the parking lot and up to the clubhouse door. I coughed when I opened the door, still unaccustomed to the sheer amount of smoking these men did. Once I recovered, I saw that there was actually someone awake in the building.

"Morning Chucky!" I greeted the two-fingered man with a smile.

His face lit up as he looked up from the bar, "M'lady."

I scrunched up my nose at his silly greeting causing both of us to break into laughter.

When I caught my breath I asked, "Coffee ready?"

He shook his head and moved to go to the kitchen.

I waved him off, "I got it."

He went back to wiping down the bar while I dropped my bag on a stool and pushed the kitchen door open. I was welcomed by a strong aroma of weeks old garbage. I stomached a gag before getting to work. I figured I could help around here, seeing that I was always around, playing the mooch.

I spent the next half hour washing dishes, scraping off dried food, and bagging all the garbage. Chucky was in and out – _like a revolving door_ – carrying out bag after bag of garbage for me and assisting when it came to dry the dishes. Once we had most of the kitchen mastered, I turned to the coffee maker and set it in motion for the morning's first round. I was pouring the water into the top when I heard the familiar clacks of stark heels against the concrete floor. A signal to note the entrance of the matriarch. The footsteps stopped just outside the door and I heard the stretch in her leather jacket as she crossed her arms.

"That's a crow eater's job." Gemma commented.

I turned to her with a bright smile, "It's the least I could do. I don't do much to help out."

Gemma raised one eyebrow but smiled and opened her arms, "Don't let it happen again. You hear me?"

I chuckled and walked over to her, reciprocating her embrace, "You got it, ma." I winked at her when I pulled away.

She shook her head in amusement and then asked, "Jax around?"

I shrugged and Chucky piped up, leading Gemma out of the kitchen. I pulled a few freshly cleaned mugs down from the cupboard and lined them up beside the coffee maker. While I waited for the first round to finish, the smell of fresh grounds wafted through the room and into the main area. I yawned, realizing that I was still a bit tired having left late last night to go home. I had trouble staying asleep being excited to come back today. Which was the reason for me showing up this early.

I stretched up on my tiptoes, my arms above my head. I brought them back down slowly, working out all the tension in my limbs. When I finished yawning I felt his presence behind me. I knew it was him from the smell. He always smelt the exact same; fresh laundered clothes, minty toothpaste, his general spicy musk and an underlying layer of smoke.

Without turning to him, I grabbed the nearest mug and asked, "Coffee?"

He responded by resting one hand against my lower back. My breath hitched at the minor touch. We both felt the shiver that ran through me. I poured him a cup, and his other hand snaked around, sliding against mine and cupping the dish between our hands. The hand that was previously set against my back slid away, his bare fingers running along the skin just below the hem of my t-shirt. I shuddered, nearly dropping the coffee pot in my hand. I heard his discreet chuckle in my hair, his warm breath brushing across my shoulder. The hair on my neck stood at attention, every cell in my body awake.

When I left this morning, I had no idea this is how I'd be received. If I was to be welcomed in this manner, then I'd make my way in to town this early every day. In his barely awakened state he seemed more at ease in showing his affections. He steadied me, grabbing the pot and setting it back into the holder. Taking the mug from my other hand, he placed it gently on the counter top.

His body pressed against mine, pushing me closer into the counter. Both my hands fell in front of me, palms flat on the surface. A subtle tremor flowed through my body. My nerves getting the best of me. He skimmed one finger up my arm. The trail of his fingers leaving fire in its wake. Continuing along my jaw and into my hair, he tucked it behind my ear. His nose brushed against the underside of my ear, nuzzling into me.

"Mornin'." He muttered.

His voice was still hoarse from not being used; muddled by sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut, having them nearly roll back in my head from the rough rumbling. I bit down on my lip, a smile curving on my mouth. With the tiny amount of strength, I still possessed, I leaned back. I lined my body against his, resting my head in the crook of his shoulder. He brought both arms around my shoulders, in a loose hold, and let them hang.

"Happy." I murmured, turning my face into his neck.

His arms tightened in response to my greeting and he bent his head closer to mine. I mustered up all my courage and with calculated movements, I wound around in his arms. I pointedly placed both hands on either of his shoulders. I stared up at him. His eyes were still heavy from sleep, but the darkness in them was signaling a different kind of emotion entirely.

I offered him a small grin. Lifting to brush one finger across his lips while simultaneously licking mine. His eyes followed the route of my tongue and he leaned in. He let out a breath and it washed over my face.

My eyes fluttered closed with the waft and without any coherent thought I whispered, "Kiss me."

I let my hands slide from his shoulders as he leaned in, feeling his proximity rather than seeing it.

"Harvard!" A voice neither of us wanted to hear at this particular moment, interrupted.

Happy growled and without changing anything about our position turned to the door. Juice bound through, only now realizing what he'd done. His smile faded, while both Happy and I stared at the youngest patched Son. Shock and anger directed at the Puerto Rican.

He grit his teeth, a nervous laugh escaping as he backed away, "My bad…"

All the desire built up from those quick few minutes dissolved. I felt the burn on my cheeks as embarrassment set in. The words I'd whispered fully registering. Instead of just taking the initiative myself, I voiced my thoughts. Averting my gaze, I began to slip my hands away from him. He shook his head, not allowing me the second to feel subpar. I felt the ghost of his lips on mine only to be torn away in the last second. Another voice, a more familiar one, breaking the moment.

"What do you mean busy?" Kozik yelled as he walked through the door.

Happy audibly groaned and pulled back. He glared at Kozik who just raised his eyebrows at the scene he walked in on.

Without any care, he shrugged, "Smells like coffee's ready."

My cheeks flared crimson. I wasn't prepared for anyone to see us in such a compromising position, not to mention two people. Kozik moved in closer while Happy was reluctant to let go of me. I made an awkward turn, passing a mug over to the blond while Happy's fingers gripped at my hips a little tighter. He let go at the same moment that Koz pulled me into a one-armed hug.

"Thanks for making us a fresh pot." He squeezed his arm around me.

I shrugged and mumbled, "Least I could do."

He took a huge gulp of the hot liquid in his cup, made a show of enjoying the warmth and gave me a playful punch on the arm.

"Got yourself a keeper there, Hap." He laughed out loud and made his way out of the kitchen as abruptly as when he entered.

Regardless of the obvious ploy to make things light hearted, you could still feel the tension in the room. Happy was directly behind me, nonchalantly posted against the wall, his coffee mug in his hand. He regarded Kozik with a curt nod. My eyes met his as Kozik retreated and everything I was feeling moments before came flooding back.

Before we had a chance to rekindle any further action, more people began to filter through the kitchen. I sighed, before shooting a sheepish smile at Happy. I turned towards the door, feeling as Happy followed close behind. Making my way back to the bar, I reached down to where I'd dropped my bag earlier.

Happy slid his mug onto the tabletop of the bar, before reaching out to circle his hand around my wrist. He spun me 180 degrees, so that I was flush against his chest. His quick motions winded me. He dove forward, his lips meeting the collarbone. I let out an involuntary sound of appreciation.

I felt the smirk of Happy's mouth on my skin. Seconds after he nipped, pulling another noise from the back of my throat. My knees wobbled from the attention and my hands gripped around him. _What was he thinking? Doing this out in the open like this?_ A brief thought of pushing him away was brushed aside by his tongue running along the vein on my neck.

I let out a shuddered breath. Unfortunately for us, this morning just wasn't meant to be. Both of us paused at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Our moment of privacy was going to be invaded.

Happy shifted, his teeth grazing the bottom of my ear and growled, "This isn't over."

Not even a second later, Jax rounded the corner. Happy pushed away abruptly enough to leave me floundering. I grasped for the stool beside me, using it to keep myself upright. Happy's smirk widened at the sight. I cursed him internally. My knuckles turned white with the grip I had on the furniture. I managed to inhale deeply, but my heart was still pounding at an accelerated rate. I could feel the coil in my lower body heat up.

"Oh. My. God." I mumbled to myself.

Jax opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at me and waved a 'hello' before flipping it open to answer. I offered him a quick smile and grabbed my bag, exiting the same way Happy had gone a few minutes ago. I was in desperate need of some fresh air. To cool off.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Lyla made a stop before her shift at CaraCara. She happened to find me sprawled across the picnic table, shirt tugged up slightly and basking in the sunshine. I had thrown one arm over my face, blocking out the light, while also having one leg hanging off the edge and the other bent with my foot flat on the tabletop. I heard her approach, and Lyla let out a girlish giggle as she took in my relaxed form. She nudged my leg, making room for herself. She sat down near my middle, leaning back on her elbows and crossing one leg over the other in a calculated dainty swish.

"Hey girl." She greeted.

I grunted in response, enjoying my little tanning session a bit too much. I felt Lyla shift and knew she was gazing over. Soon I felt the light rescind. With one eye open, I peeked out from under my arm. Finding my face inches from Lyla's.

I blinked, tossing my arm away and arching an eyebrow up at her, "What?"

I could tell by the smirk on her face that she was dying to tell me something.

She shrugged, settling back into her pose, "Oh, I don't know... rumour has it that one of the Sons walked in on another Son this morning."

I closed my eyes again, facing the sunshine full on again, "Is that so?"

She giggled, "Would you happen to know anything about that?"

I fought with the smile on my face, shaking my head, "I have no clue what you're talking about."

"You sure? I do recall you mentioning driving in earlier than usual this morning." She nudged my arm with her elbow.

I let out a huff, trying to hide my laughter, " _No_ , I don't."

She rolled her eyes, shifting from side to side as she crossed one leg over the other, "Well, get this!" She began, using her best valley girl imitation, "One of the girls told me that she overheard some of the crows talking and it turns out that Happy Lowman - yes, Happy Lowman - was caught in a compromising position... with the new girl."

I pursed my lips and mimicked her voice, "Get outta town."

It put me ill at ease to know that the women around here were talking but at the same time, I felt a swell of pride. I didn't delude myself into thinking they'd stop going after him. I wasn't an idiot. I saw the way the crows targeted the Sons, especially Jax, and he was engaged. At least they knew now that Happy was preoccupied with someone else. Lyla threw her head back as she laughed and the sound of it caught Opie's attention.

Both Lyla and I gazed over, seeing as Opie took notice of his wife. Opie also happened to be standing next to Happy. Having felt my eyes on him, he turned his attention to me. Lyla waved to her husband and blew him a kiss. I sat up, resting back on my elbows, and pushed my glasses into my hair. Happy was wiping his hands with a rag never once breaking eye contact.

Lyla muttered under her breath, "Oh girl, does he ever got it bad."

I met Happy's stare, the warmth from earlier reigniting with gusto. He answered whatever question Opie had asked him without so much as a blink. His gaze steady on mine. I straightened out, swinging my legs over the edge and planting them on the seat next to Lyla.

"Like I said, I don't know what you're talking about." I murmured through my teeth.

She spared a glance up at me before standing with the intentions of walking over to Opie.

She patted me on the knee, "Trust me. You're in for a world of fun."

I winked, confirming everything I was trying not to outright admit to. She gave me a knowing nod and was on her way. Happy still hadn't made it clear what he meant by ' _this isn't over_ ' but I'd spent the entire morning and most of the early afternoon waiting around. I tried to keep myself busy with trivial things, but nothing kept my attention for long. I hoped that when he took his morning smoke break something would happen but all he did was join me and some of the other Sons at the picnic table. The most action I got from him was when he squeezed my upper thigh just as he was getting up to go back to work. His regular lunch break was coming up but I'd talked myself into not getting worked up. I didn't want to be disappointed again.

While I was in a daze, thinking about the morning, I found myself watching Happy as he worked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kozik cross his arms. He was leaning against the side of the building, with a smoke in one hand. He was on official clubhouse business today and not working in the shop. I diverted my gaze in his direction and he gave a weak grin. I offered him a small wave but knew that he was bothered; bothered about mine and Happy's budding… whatever you wanted to call this. I sighed because I liked Kozik and I didn't want to lose out on him as a friend. I was never anything but honest with him. I shot down all his advances. He knew that there was never anything more between us. That I wasn't interested. Maybe that's why he was taking this a bit hard. He was probably of the mind that I didn't want to get involved with any of them. Which was true, but you can't help who you fall for, can you? Now that things were out of his favour he seemed a bit sour.

I shook my head clearing all thoughts of negativity and laid back down on the table. I had nowhere to be and nothing important to do. Instead of getting involved in any kind of politics, I was going to take a nap with the sun beating down on me. That was a safe way to pass the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I jolted awake instinctively reaching for my back pocket, where I kept my cell phone. I checked the time and sat up straight. I'd slept the past the two hours away. I looked up and the sun was now beginning to set into the early evening.

"About time." Happy's rasp sounded from behind me.

I jumped and turned to find him seated next to where my head and just been. I blinked a few times, still off kilter from waking up abruptly. I rubbed my face, a poor attempt to wake myself up faster.

"Were you waiting for me?" I asked, feeling dumb.

He didn't answer. Instead be began walking in the direction opposite of the clubhouse. When I didn't immediately get up he stopped and pivoted back towards me.

"Come." He motioned for me to get moving.

I hopped down from the table and trotted after him. He crossed the expanse of the lot and then through the back gate. I paused and took a brief glance behind me. There wasn't anyone watching, most were preoccupied with whatever conversation they were having. I inched towards the gate and peered around searching for Happy.

His hand shot out and wrapped around my forearm, tugging me through the opening. He flung me around in a circle, careful to keep me from losing my footing. He pushed me against the chain-link fence with practiced force. I was winded, and he stopped, gazing down at me to make sure I was ok. I gave him a reassuring smile. I wasn't against a little rough play, as long as there was clear communication between what was and wasn't ok. I smirked up at him, curling my fists into his cut and yanking him towards me.

His mouth met mine in a heated rush. Both his hands hit the metal on either side of my head, sending a quiet ring through the small alleyway. I felt as his fingers curled into the fence and in response to his restraint I pushed forward, lining my body flush against his. He let out a groan and I smothered it with another passionate kiss. Our mouths were hard against each other, our tongues exploring where they hadn't been. He lifted one hand from the fence and ran it through my hair, tugging on the ends. I threw my head back and let out a throaty moan. He chuckled darkly at my response. I frowned with playful petulance and leaned forward, nipping at the base of his neck.

His hand formerly tangled in my hair slipped down and landed on the right side of my bottom. His fingers flexed, squeezing the muscle there. I smiled into his neck, planting kisses up the side. I let my tongue sneak out and lick along the vein there. He let go of the fence behind me completely, pulling me closer to him and pushing my face away from his body. His lips planted on mine and he pressed against the back of my head, forcing our kiss tighter.

We broke apart for a breath. Both of us heaved in deep breaths of air. Another few minutes of this kind of make out session and I'd be ready for him to take me home. I licked my lips, prepared to attack him a second time when a powerful vibration shot through the right side of my hip. I yelped both in surprise and pleasure. Happy let out a deflated sigh and pulled out his phone. I frowned, knowing that this would be end of our session. We fell back against the fence, his body laying heavily against mine. He ducked his head past mine, resting it on the fence behind me.

"Yeah." He answered.

I could hear the faint voice, of who I assumed was Jax, ask where he'd gone off too.

"Just around the corner." He answered, keeping it vague.

I giggled, and he bit my earlobe in an attempt to shut me up. I shoved the back of my hand into my mouth, shaking with laughter. This was absurd. We were running around like a couple of teenagers, hiding from our parent's watchful eyes. Happy flipped his phone shut and left light kisses down my jawline, pressing not one, not two, but three tender kisses against my lips. When he pushed back, I pouted, giving him my best version of puppy eyes.

"Stay." He stated.

I shook my head, "Where?"

"Here." He answered.

I ground my teeth together. I didn't know if I was ready for that just yet. I wanted it. Oh yes! I wanted it bad, but I wasn't really a one-night stand kind of girl and I definitely didn't want to give him that impression. I wanted whatever this was to keep going. I didn't want it to stop.

"It's Friday." He explained, "I'll be gone a few hours. Club business."

I smiled, giving in, "Alright. Only because there's a party tonight though."

If there was ever a time that I could say this man surprised me, it was in this moment. He smiled at me. A genuine, _happy_ smile. I stared at him in shock and he took advantage of my pause to leave a rough kiss against my mouth before walking back onto the compound. I rolled my lips together, reveling in the sting left from him. _Oh boy, what was I getting myself into?_


	17. I'll Share the Things That She Won't

**A/N: Edited 1-3-2018**

 **Playlist:** _Shut Up and Dance - Walk the Moon, Dance Like We're Making Love - Ciar_ a

 **Dislcaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

II let my head fall back, waiting a few minutes for Happy to make it back into the compound before me. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. A grin grew, causing me to let out a joyous chuckle and bite down on my lower lip. Feeling like an adolescent girl, all I could think about was that Happy kissed me. He kissed me. He initiated it. Now, he wanted me to stay. This was that first time he ever asked me to stick around. He'd never once voiced his want for me to stay. Today he requested it point blank. I let out a small squeal.

Once I calmed down enough to function without a goofy smile, pushed off the fence. I peeked around the gate, assessing to see if there was anyone who would catch me. Luckily everyone was focused all on the men mounting their Harley's. I took this as my chance. I snuck around the fence, sauntering across the pavement. Casually, I walked up to the railing. I ducked, sliding my sunglasses back down and over my eyes.

I ran a hand through my hair, flipping it off to the side. A light breeze caught my hair and it fell haphazardly around my shoulders. The roar of engines starting swallowed any other sound around me. Without hearing her approach I found Gemma standing next to me, gazing out at her husband. I reached out gripping both hands around the railing. I kept my eyes trained on Happy. Gemma shifted, poking her hip out and resting back against the rail. She popped a cigarette into her mouth, turning to catch my eye as she lit it.

I licked my lips, feeling the strange sensation of seeing my 'boyfriend' off. As if I was in an old-timey movie. The ones where the women all rush to the edge of the docks, waving and crying out to their men, as they embark on an adventure. In reality, all I was doing was watching as him and the rest of the club drove off. I clenched the railing, realizing just how much of myself I was giving away. I thought I was being stealthy. Keeping all my cards close to my heart. Unfortunately, Gemma caught on. She obviously figured out something happened between Happy and I. Something more than the last few weeks. Gemma had a smirk on her lips, as she watched my internal struggle.

I managed to tear my gaze from Gemma's and back to the group of bikers. With a subtle nod in my direction, Happy surged forward, following his VP through the gates. I sighed, lowering my entire torso down. I let my head hang between my arms. I couldn't stop the smile. I let my hair cover my face as I smiled down at the pavement. His nod was telling enough. He thought far enough to say goodbye. In his own little way. But for this club, and knowing him the way they did, that was as good as screaming that I was with him, from the rooftops. Gemma was sure to say something.

As if on cue, Gemma's voice dropped into the air around us, "Do you love him?"

I tilted my head up at her. She was blowing smoke through her nostrils as she gave me a hard look.

I arched an eyebrow, "Isn't it a bit early for a question like that?"

I saw the flash in her eyes. She wasn't used to people - women especially - taking a firm opposition to her. I hadn't meant to deliberately challenge her, but it was an unprecedented question. This wasn't my way of making some sort of power play. Happy and I were still getting to know one another. It was new. Fun. It wasn't a time to start making grand declarations of any emotions. Gemma kept quiet for a long moment before assuming my deflection was for something else entirely.

"Baby," She said, with a smirk, "It's never too early."

I stared up at her studying the expression on her face. She was gazing at me like she knew exactly where we were headed. I pushed back up with a pump of my arms. I rocked backwards on the heels of my feet and matched Gemma's seated position. I gazed around the ring sitting off to the side of the clubhouse. There were crow eaters moving about, busying themselves with whatever it was they did when the boys were away. I lifted one hand to my mouth, pressing my fingers against it. I could still feel the phantom pressure of Happy's lips against mine. Gemma's eyes followed the movement of my hand. Her gaze flicking away quickly, to overlook the crows.

Standing up straight, and without looking back at me she spoke, "Being with a Son comes with large responsibility."

I couldn't help but nod in agreement. I knew there would be implications of making a relationship with a Son public. There would be obstacles at every turn. Internal and externa. Gemma didn't need to remind me. She flicked her cigarette, clearing it of excess ash. With one last drag, she dropped it to the ground and stomped it out.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you," She trailed off, letting the 'but' hanging in the pause, "If you love the man, you learn to love the club."

She reached around, pulling me in for a brief embrace before setting off to give the crows specific orders. I hung back, watching as she went. I understood the theme of what she had been implying. I guess I could consider myself warned. She was making it known that nothing came between a Son and his club. Not only that but, she was welcoming me into the folds. _Did that make me an old lady? Or on my way to one?_ I wondered how Tara dealt with it. She seemed like a strong individual. How was it that she maintained being a doctor _? Did she know exactly what the boys were off doing? Was she aware of what 'club business' really meant?_ Gemma did, but was that knowledge that every woman was privy too?

Thinking about Tara being a doctor called into question morals and ethics. If Tara knew what Gemma knew, how did she continue walking through life with that knowledge. Not that I thought any less of her. She was a nice woman, looked after her family, and loved Jax. It was an odd fit. Although, myself being connected to Happy was just as odd. I was a sore thumb around here. Not a crow, but not an old lady... yet. Maybe I was getting carried away. I didn't actually know what the club was doing outside of being mechanics. I couldn't stand here and start making assumptions. I would leave it. If - some far, far down the road - Happy and I found ourselves in a situation close to Tara's, or Gemma's, then we could discuss full disclosure. Until then, I was just going to let it go. Enjoy things as they were. I was going to revel in the fun that I discovered with my very own _inmate_. _My_ bad boy.

I slumped back, "Ugh."

The sound of my complaint out in the universe. These kinds of thoughts were much too deep for the sunny afternoon. I should be relaxing, or better yet, panicking about staying for the party. If there was anyone who could talk me down from my minor freak out, it was Lyla. I pulled out my phone, searching for her number. Pressing down the call button, I lifted the receiver to my ear.

It only took one ring before she answered.

"Hey girl. You home? Can I come by?"

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I pulled into Lyla's driveway just as Neeta was leaving with Piper, Kenny and Ellie. I waved to the kids in the car, noticing both Thomas' car seat and Abel in the back too. I smiled as they all shouted my name through the window. I gave Neeta a warm smile and made my way to the side door. I didn't bother knocking as I opened the screen.

"I'm here." I called out.

I pulled out one of the chairs around the small table and dropped down into it. I tossed my bag up onto the table. I flipped open the largest pocket, rummaging around until I found my Altoids case.

"Be there in a sec." Lyla's muffled voice came floating down the hallway.

I popped open my case and grabbed the pre-rolled joint I had. Picking up my lighter, I fit the end of the joint into my mouth, stopping to greet Lyla as she entered the kitchen. Remembering that I was in her house, I paused.

Without looking up I asked, "Mind if I light up?"

Lyla's reaction was similar to everyone else's when they found out.

"You smoke? Really?"

I smirked, "Shut up."

She laughed but gave me a nod of permission. I sparked up, taking a long drag. I held it in, holding out the joint to Lyla. She picked it from my fingers and joined me. I exhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out in a billowing cloud. Together, we sat, enjoying the quiet and smoke. A calming sensation overcoming both of us. Once the joint was finished, I snuffed it out on the tin container before snapping it shut and tossing it back into my bag.

"I assumed you would've left already." Lyla commented.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Was there a question in there somewhere?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes before starting again, "I _meant_ how come you haven't gone home? Does it have something to do with those rumours going around?"

I gave her a coy smile, "Happy asked me to stay."

"Ohmygod!" She shrieked, jumping up out of her chair.

She clapped her hands once, for emphasis. Her reaction caused me to break out into slow laughter.

"It's not that big of a deal." I tried to downplay the whole thing.

She waved me off, "No! This really is a _big_ deal." She circled the table, "Happy actually likes someone." I gave her a confused look and she corrected, "As in not a crow eater."

I rolled my eyes and searched through my bag to see if I had anything else stashed. The more Lyla gushed, the more my anxiety set it.

"What are you going to wear?" She finally asked.

I waved my hands down my front, "My clothes?"

Her mouth dropped open, "Oh, hell no." She grabbed my wrist, yanked me out of the chair and tugged me down the hallway, "You'll just have to borrow something of mine."

I bit down on my lip, keeping my comments to myself for fear of offending her. In my mind she didn't have anything even remotely similar to what I would wear. She was a porn star, I was not. I reminded myself not to be judgmental. I'd never actually seen her look indecent. She was always well put together. In clothes I would never, but nothing ghastly enough to seem slutty. She pushed me down on the edge of her bed and threw the closet doors open.

"You're a size what…?" She gave me no time to answer before holding up a corset like shirt to my chest and answering herself, "Small."

I leered at the black corset she pulled out with distaste, "I'm not wearing that."

She gave me a condescending look, "Do you, or do you not want to give Happy a run for his money."

I chuckled, "You assume I'm making him pay?"

I realized after the words came out that she could take them wrong and be offended. It sounded like a stab at her lifestyle. I knew she wasn't a hooker, but a lot of people combined porn star with hooker.

She smacked me on the arm, "Elle!" but laughed along with me.

I breathed out in relief. Crisis avoided. Accepting the situation for what it was, I stood up beside her. Together we began tearing through her closet, searching for something that I would be comfortable enough wearing.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

By the time Lyla and I were backing out of her driveway, it was already quarter to 10. Almost an hour after the official party start time. I was silently panicking that Happy thought I'd lied and ran back home. Lyla knew what was bothering me and reached over to rest her hand on my thigh. Her blue eyes full of awareness. She reassured me that he wouldn't think that. Opie had known that I was over. He'd called Lyla a few hours ago and she mentioned that we were spending time together. There was no way Opie wouldn't have mentioned it.

I continued to drive us, rolling Lyla's reassurances over in my mind. He wasn't going to think I abandoned him. He knew I was with Lyla. He knew we would make an appearance. Trying to keep me from backing out, Lyla started complaining about my hair again. We'd picked out an outfit fairly quickly after the two of us battled her closet together. Then it was just make-up and hair that needed to be done. I tried to warn Lyla, but she was stubborn. She suggested using her curling iron to give me some waves. I knew it wasn't going to work, but she was desperate to try.

As we pulled into TM I smiled over at her. When I thought up this project, I didn't think I would be anything then an observer. I never thought I'd make a friend. She wasn't a conventional one, but she was perhaps better than that. I enjoyed the little moments I had with her. She'd opened her arms up and let me help with planning her wedding, even let me capture all her most treasured evening. I was always welcome at her house. Both Opie's and her kids knew me. I hadn't planned it, but no matter what was due to happen with this project, with the Sons, I knew that I was leaving every day having a friend in Lyla.

Still complaining about my hair, I pulled into my usual spot and parked. I laughed and reminded her of my initial warning, but she was still miffed. My hair didn't like to be styled. Unless of course that style was straight. What was supposed to be large curls, turned into beachy waves. Either way I liked it.

Turning off the ignition, I sighed. This was it. This was the moment. The big reveal. Lyla pushed her door open while simultaneously undoing her seatbelt. My hands dropped down into my lap. I stared down at the skin of my stomach on display. _Could I really do this?_ The gaping rips in the jeans I wore were more than I'd ever ventured to wear. Not to mention snug, as Lyla and I were a size apart when it came to jeans. This was a lot for me. _Would I be comfortable all night wearing this?_ Lyla was aiming to shut her door when she noticed that I hadn't made a move to leave.

She leaned back in, "You coming?"

I let out a deep breath, "Are you sure this isn't too much?"

This was the most skin I'd ever shown. Mind you, it wasn't a lot. Only my stomach and a few strips of thigh and legs were out. I wasn't uncomfortable in the choice of clothing, I thought I looked good. It was the fact that I'd be surrounded by other people seeing me in the outfit. The light blue jeans and white crop top were comfortable and light. I just wasn't the type of person to even wear a bikini at the beach. Not to mention clothing that revealed a little extra. I wasn't a prude, I just preferred to be as low key as possible. Lowe key wasn't an option when you were showing off.

Lyla perched on the side of the seat, "Babe you look amazing. Hap's jaw is going to drop when he sees you. Be proud of the body you're in. Show it off! Let Happy have a taste of what you've been hiding under all those loose shirts you wear."

I ground my teeth together, nodding my head along with her pep talk. I could do this. I could get over my insecurities. Shit, the crow eaters walked around in skimpy clothing regularly. If they could do it all the time, I could handle one night. I took a deep breath and pulled on the door handle. Lyla smiled and pushed her door shut.

"Atta girl."

She met me around the back of the car and looped her arm through mine. I suddenly became very interested in the several gold bangles I had adorning my right arm. I ran a hand over them listening to the clang together.

I whispered to myself, "I can do this."

Lyla patted my arm, "Here we go."

We strode around the side of the building, walking along the line of parked Harley's, approaching the clubhouse. The music was pounding through the door. When we emerged under the floodlight, we were met with a few of the boys milling around. Smiles lit up each and every one of their faces.

"Oh sweetheart, you're killing me." Tig pulled me towards him, squeezing me tight.

I laughed, feeling the heat in my cheeks, "Really? Why would that be?"

He pushed me arm's length away from him and with a deliberate lick of his lips answered, "You look delicious, baby girl. Edible."

"Tig!" I smacked his arm, my mouth falling open.

As much as I wanted to be offended, I couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline that surged through me at being noticed. There was a loud wolf whistle from behind me and that Scottish burr broke out.

"Is that our Ellie girl?" Chibs walked over and tossed an arm across my hips, "Well I'll be damned. You look ravishing."

His eyes raked over my body. My eyes widened, not sure how-to reaction to the sudden attention from the Sons. This outfit was designed for one in mind, not all of them. I reached out and grabbed Lyla's arm, pulling her close.

"Happy. This is for Happy! Not everyone else." I whispered in panic to her.

She winked with a chuckle and sauntered away. I watched her find Opie, leaving me to fend for myself. _Where was Happy? How did I let myself be coerced into this?_ Happy had never complained about my clothes before. _Why did I think changing it up was a good idea?_ As I was preparing to peel myself away from Chibs another hand reached out, grabbing my upper arm and yanked me off to the side, where the light was scarce. I spun around, gathering my bearings. Thankfully, I'd found him. Or he found me. In the dim light, I was staring up into the dark eyes of my favourite biker.

"What d'you think you're doing?" He grumbled, his entire body leaning towards mine.

I played coy, "What do you mean?"

He dropped his beer bottle onto the picnic table, reached out and grabbed my hip, pulling me towards him. Our faces only a few centimeters apart. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as his eyes kept mine locked on his.

"Trying to make me jealous?" He growled.

A thrill ran through my body. It was never my intention to have other men throw themselves at me. Him. It was only him. However, it proved to be a catalyst to some more primal urges between us. Happy's other hand found my bare lower back, the cool sting of his rings making me shiver. He ran a calloused finger down my spine, delving into the dimples of my lower back. I bit my lip, energy pulsing through me at his touch.

I pouted, "You don't like it?"

Resting both my hands on his chest, I pushed back. I backed away from him, turning towards the clubhouse door. Mustering up whatever confidence I had and swung my hips from side to side. To ensure that he was watching me walk away, I flipped my hair, and cast a glance at him over my shoulder. He took two steps forward, his hand hooking around my neck and pulling me back to him. His mouth hovered a millimeter from mine. I waited, wanting him to kiss me. When he didn't make any move, I attempted to push forward and capture his lips with mine. He held me steady, not allowing us to touch. I groaned in frustration and I was met with a sly smirk.

"Two can play at that game." He growled.

He smashed his lips into mine but too soon they were gone. He let me go, turned and stalked back into the clubhouse. I stumbled in place, throwing my hand out to the table, catching my fall. _What had I just done? Damn._ I'd started game of cat and mouse, unintentionally. I'd never had this kind of dynamic with anyone before. I didn't know how I was going to do it. I'd just have to wing it. What I did know was that I was playing to win.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

An hour later, I found myself sitting alone at the bar, conversing with the Prospect. He was feigning supplying me with alcohol. I hadn't had much. About two and a half beers by this point. It turned out that Happy was a fucking pro at this game. As soon as I followed him into the clubhouse, he had a croweater fawning over him. When I caught his eye, he gave me an evil wink. I wasn't prepared for this kind of fight. What did I have that could help me win this power play. I ended up deciding to play it safe and sat myself at the bar, preparing a game plan. Plan A was to get as drunk as possible but that was delayed by having only beer and whiskey as my options. I didn't enjoy either. Still I had to start somewhere. As I went to take another sip of my drink I felt a hard clap on my back.

"'Ey there lass!" A very drunk Chibs shouted at me.

I winced with the force of his words but laughed at how utterly trashed he was. These boys were a rowdy bunch. Chibs sat on the stool next to me, leaning backwards on his elbows against the bar.

"'Ow're ya enjoyin' yerself?" He asked, a serious look on his face.

I shrugged, "Not too bad."

Chibs raised an eyebrow at me not believing my remark. Phil chose that moment to bait me out.

"She's only had the two beers." He pointed out.

I shook my head, my hands out in protest and gave him an evil eye.

Chibs gasped, "Is that true?"

I rolled my eyes but answered honestly, "I don't drink beer."

Chibs laughed loud and ordered six shots. My eyebrows shot into my hairline, there was no way I was drinking that many shots. The croweater closest to us poured out six shots of Jack. Chibs separated them evenly, three for me and three for him.

I screwed up my face, "Nope."

"Nonsense." Chibs yelled, tossing the first one down.

He picked up his second one and waited until I grabbed one. I conceded and lifted my first one.

He clinked his glass against mine, "To family!"

"To winning." I murmured and downed the shot. I shuddered and gagged, sticking my tongue out, "It burns."

Chibs laughed louder and shoved the other shot into my hand, "Next one."

I convulsed, holding in a gag, but drank the second one and then the third at Chibs' insistence. I sat there for a full minute convincing myself that I didn't need to throw up. Whiskey was disgusting. Once I'd gotten over the initial urge to hurl, I was feeling good. Chibs watched me the entire time, a stupid smile on his face.

"Good?" Chibs asked.

I gave a curt nod, "Alright."

He grinned, showing all his teeth, "Perfect. Six more shots!"

I smacked his arm, "No! No more shots."

"Nonsense!" He handed me my three and waited till I picked one up.

I sighed, this was Plan A after all. I picked up another shot, "Here we go."

I shot the liquid down my throat, grimacing at the horrible taste but met Chibs shot for shot. Once we'd finished, I was positive he was going to keel over. He stumbled sideways into me, throwing an arm around my shoulders for support. I gripped the counter, unable to handle all the Scotsman's weight.

"Jesus Chibs," I grumbled, "You're as heavy as an elephant."

He giggled, actually giggled and I broke out into loud laughter. At first Chibs was confused but eventually he didn't care and joined in with my laughter. The two of us held onto each other giggling like school girls. Once we calmed down I steadied Chibs on his own stool and sat back on mine.

"Oh lord," I exclaimed, "How am I this drunk already?"

Chibs shrugged, his eyes starting to glaze over, "Lightweight?"

I snorted, "Probably."

He peered over at me questioning my statement, but it was true. Whiskey wasn't something I drank. Of course, it would affect me right away. Juice and Kozik chose this moment to saunter over and pass a joint over to Chibs. He grabbed it and shoved it in his mouth taking a deep toke. When he was finished he lazily offered me the joint. I picked it from his fingers and eyed it closely. Kozik had posted himself on the stool next to mine, leaning in close to me.

I scoffed, "You expect me to get a high off this measly thing?"

All three of them snapped their heads up and stared at me. I spun in my chair, staggering around the bar and disappeared. I pulled my bag from behind the bottles I'd hidden behind it earlier. I didn't like going anywhere without and after discovering Happy's plan, I needed air. I walked over to the car, grabbed my bag and brought it back into the clubhouse.

"You got any more on you?" I asked Juice.

"Ummm, yeah… why?" He answered.

I shot up from my bent over position, teetered on my heels, only to find all three of them peering wide-eyed over the counter at me. I pulled out a nice large Backwoods cigar pack.

I winked at him, "Because I'm going to show you boys how to really smoke weed."

Kozik scoffed with surprise and both Juice and Chibs' eyes widened at my statement. I grinned at them, waggling my eyebrows. I was two beers and six shots in. If there was ever a time to reveal a little secret about myself, now was the time. Juice pulled out a Ziploc sandwich baggy from his pocket and handed it to me. I cleared a space on the bar in front of me and began sifting through the contents.

I scrunched up my nose, "This is all seeds and stems. Where'd you get this shit from?"

The complaint was met with Chibs' chuckle. Juice shrugged. I shook my head but continued forward with my goal. I ripped the Backwoods wrapper open, breaking the cigar and dumping out the contents. I broke a bit of the tobacco up, mixing with the herb and poured everything into the wrapper. I used a pen from my bag to pack everything down before adding a final touch of licking the excess edge. I folded it over, sealing it tightly. Juice watched the entire time with envy written all over his face.

"Who are you?" He finally scoffed.

I laughed, "I'm a journalist, you think I don't smoke? Come on."

Kozik laid his chin on my shoulder, "I can't handle this right now, Harvard. You're a completely new person."

I snorted, "Stop being such a drama queen. When was the last time you actually asked me anything about myself?"

Kozik backed up, clearly feeling guilty for the truth of my response. I sparked up the blunt, inhaling deeply. I turned back to my audience and blew a smoke ring right in their faces. Two secrets for the price of one!

"Well, fuck me sideways." Chibs uttered.

I handed it over to Juice "And that, my friends, is how you roll a proper blunt."

He examined the thick cigar wrapper in his hand. With an impressed nod he took a toke. The four of us spent the next little while smoking down the entire thing, while Chibs ordered more shots. We drank and smoked and got messed up. The drunker we got, the more things became funny and the louder we got. I started making fun of the boys, punch for punch. They tried to get me at every turn, but I was there with an equally witty throw and they scrambled to keep up. Over time I could feel Happy's gaze on me. I snuck a glance in his direction and was met by an unimpressed biker. I blew him a kiss and turned my back to him. I hadn't planned on using any Sons to my advantage but now that the situation had risen, I was going to milk it.

I leaned into Kozik, and his arm wrapped around me. Kozik glanced down at me, questioning my action. I knew that using Kozik would set Happy off. Everyone else had that Kozik was someone that could actually have competition with Happy. Not that Happy had ever worried. I'd never given any inclination that I wanted to be with Kozik. In answer to Kozik's question, I jerked my head backwards, indicating that he only needed to see what I wanted help with. He shifted sideways, staring over my shoulder and found Happy glaring at him. He offered his brother a sly grin and moved back to be facing me.

"This'll royally piss him off, y'know?" Kozik murmured, his eyes still caught glancing back at Happy's glare.

I nodded, a sinister smile on my face. Kozik shrugged, agreeing to be a part of my plan. If Happy was going to let the crows crawl all over him, then I would use one of his brother's in his little game. He tugged my closer, knowing that Happy was still glaring me down. I flipped my hair over my other shoulder, allowing Happy a side view. Kozik let his arm lower, his fingers run through the ends of my hair. I felt as his hand kept lowering and ghosted along the skin of my waist. He laughed, and it jostled us around, causing me to fall further into him. When we straightened up, Happy was no longer glaring at us but had immersed himself in the attention he was getting from two crow eaters.

"Come on." Kozik helped me down off the stool.

The four of us migrated over to the couches, joining both Tig and Happy. I ended up perched on the coffee table, Kozik reclining in the seat next to it. Tig was quick to start up a conversation, finding out what the other three had just discovered about me. Tig shoved a poorly rolled joint in my direction and the next ten minutes were filled with Tig insisting I blow smoke ring, after smoke ring. For a brief few minutes, the crow eater's attention on Happy was diverted to me, allowing me the chance to blow a small kiss at Happy, disguised as a smoke ring. He maintained his ever-stoic expression but I knew he appreciated the gesture. After that Tig forced me into rolling yet another blunt for everyone, fascinated by the fact that I could actually do it.

By this point, the party had died down and there were only a few stragglers left in the building. Once the novelty of my secrets wore off, Tig moved on to the croweater closest to him, making out with her in front of everyone. Turning away, we continued on with our nonsense conversations. Realizing that the crow eater angle wasn't having anymore of the desired effects, Happy waved them away. They switched over to Chibs and Juice while Kozik up and disappeared. I remained sitting on the coffee table, bopping along to the music still blaring through the speakers. I was starting to feel my come down and wasn't ready for the night to end just yet. Neither Happy nor I had conceded defeat, so I needed to keep myself going, figuring out how to get him to admit that I won.

It was in that moment that I lucked out. The starting notes and lyrics were easily recognizable. I knew this song. Really well. I could use this to my advantage, that and I was inebriated enough to not care about how I conducted myself. All my inhibitions were in the wind, and I had one end game, Happy.

I hopped up, planting my feet on the table. I snapped my fingers in beat to the music. I bobbed my head along to the song, mouthing the lyrics to myself as it went. I twisted my hair into a sloppy top knot, hoping to keep it off my neck but once the beat kicked into gear, I began rolling my shoulders side to side. My hair to fell out, fanning around me and I decided I didn't care. By the time the chorus hit, I was in my own little world with my hands running up my sides. I spun in a slow circle, rotating my hips in figure eights. I rolled my stomach, showing off the toned muscles I normally hid. I flicked my hips up and down. Singing along and losing myself in the music. Happy kept a steady gaze on my movements. He settled back into the couch, his hands resting next to his thighs. I could see the twitch in his muscles. It was a telling sign. He wanted to reach out. Touch me.

In my bubble, I hadn't realized that I'd garnered more of an audience. Juice, Chibs and Tig were equally mesmerized by my movements. Thankfully, Happy was the only one I was focused on. His steady gaze on my moving hips kept me going. Heat rose through my body, pooling in my lower abdomen. I reached up, with one hand, ran it into my hair, flipping it with a seductive flair. I stepped off the table and leaned down into him. Our eyes met, and I gave him a smile. I inclined my body towards his, being sure not to touch him. I smoothed both hands over his head and down his neck. Working together, both my hands caressed his shoulders and I tucked them under his cut. With ease I shrugged the cut right off his body and flipped it around his back, shoving both my hands through the openings. The leather was huge on me, but I spun around running my hands down the sides of the vest. My hands met above the hem of my jeans where the button clasp was.

I wasn't entirely aware, but picked up on the shift of attitude in the room. I took a quick glance around and found the crow eaters staring at me with jealousy and all three of the other men gazing at Happy with questions clear in their eyes. I looked down at the leather cut on my body and realized that that could've been a bad idea. The cut was revered. It was a Son's pride. I may have overstepped. Wearing a Son's cut might not be something women were allowed to do. I read Happy's body language and nothing about him seemed irritated. I used that to quell my panic and moved to see this through, pretend like I hadn't done what I did.

I twirled in a slow circle, my hips flexing. I turned away from Happy, rolling my shoulders backwards. I tossed my hair over my right side, gazing at him over my shoulder giving him a sly wink. I shimmied my way back to being in front of him and innocently pressed both my legs on either side of his knees. Leaning down, I grabbed his hands, placing them on the sides of my thighs. I didn't hear the sound Happy emitted, but I felt it rumble through his chest. I straightened out, putting my hands on either side of his head. I pressed my chest close to his face. Inch by inch, lowering myself closer, straddling his lap.

Knowing that I was still playing the game, he was adamant about keeping his eyes on mine. Not once did the stray to my chest. That would give him points later. I'd reward him for that restraint. I tilted sideways, running my hands down his muscled arms. I could feel his pulse race under my fingertips. His breath came out in pants landing on the exposed skin below my breasts.

I leaned in, my lips grazing his ear, and whispered the lyrics in his ear, " _Boy we got all night long._ "

I felt his fingers tighten on my thighs and my back arched at the feeling. I let out a tiny gasp of pleasure as a shiver ran up my spine. I ran my hands back up his arms linking them together behind his neck. I backed away shifting my body to the other side, lowering my mouth close and nipped on his other ear.

" _I hope you're sure this is what you want,_ " I continued, "' _Cause once I'm turned on, you can't turn me off._ "

I heard the growl escaping this time. The lyrics I repeated to him hitting home. His grip on me tightened and it took all my resolve not to rip his clothes off right then and there. Quicker than I could process, my legs were forced around his middle and I was airborne. My arms tightened around his neck as he took deliberate steps around the small group. I giggled, the booze and weed rekindling and heightening my experience. I nuzzled into the crook between his neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of light kisses. His hands jumped from my thighs to my backside, squeezing. I let out a mischievous yelp as he powered forward through a door. Before I knew it was slammed against a wall, in what I was assuming was his dorm room, and his mouth was on mine. I sighed into him throwing myself into that kiss. I began tearing at his remaining clothes.

"Off." I panted.

He let go abruptly and my legs went crashing back to the floor. I reached for the button on my jeans, wiggling them down my legs and kicking them off my ankles. I went to shrug out of his cut but he stopped me. I paused gazing at him, breathless. I'd only seen him without a shirt on once. I forget how expertly he was adorned in intricate art. His tattoos were beautiful. I ran a hand along his stomach, stopping to admire one that looked brand new. There was a cluster of happy faces tattooed into him and one of them was fresh, as if he'd only just gotten it done. I peered up at him but knew this wasn't the time to ask for an explanation. I was brought back to the present by his rasp.

He shook his head, "Keep it on."

I smirked, "I have an idea."

I pulled the cut off, handed it to him and untied the knot in my shirt, pulling it up over my head and tossing it across the room. I stood in front of him, in nothing but my bra and underwear. He stared at my body with a hunger in his eyes I'd never seen on any man I'd been with before. It excited me. I reached both my arms around my back, snapped my bra open and threw it at him. As he dropped one hand off the cut, I grabbed it back while he caught my lacy bra. I slipped the cut on before giving him too much of a show. I pulled all my hair to one side and positioned the cut in such a way that only just covered my breasts.

I shifted, making sure that my cleavage obvious but subtle. I winked at him and he all but ripped me towards him. Our lips met with gusto, his tongue running along my lower lip. I pushed him backwards, and we stumbled towards his bed. He fell backwards onto the mattress, bouncing up while I landed on top of him without any grace. I lifted up onto my knees and worked him out of his jeans. Once his jeans were pooled on the floor, in a surprise move, he flipped me over onto my back. Leaving him to loom over me. I let out an exhilarated laugh.

He took a moment to pause, "Is this ok?"

I lifted one hand and cupped his face. He was a hardened man, blunt and cruel, but in this moment, I'd never experienced anyone so compassionate. He was outright asking me if I wanted to do this. I knew he was questioning this because I had been drinking. He wanted to know if I really wanted to sleep with him. If I was in charge of all my faculties. Even in all my drunken glory, there was nothing more that I wanted.

"Yes." I murmured.

His mouth landed on mine in the next moment, both of us excited for the events of the night. He broke away from my lips and left a trail of blazing love bites down my neck, through my cleavage and to the tip of my underwear. His fingers looped around the flimsy strings and pulled the thong down over my ankles. He tossed the garment over his shoulder and pushed my knees apart. He licked his lips and lowered his head between my thighs.

His tongue darted out, running fully from top to bottom. I jolted at the touch. He pulled back, only his breath felt on my body. I moaned with anticipated pleasure. He laughed, and the deep sound had another wave of anticipation crashing through me. He dove back in, tongue working my clit, while my hips rolled into each of his movements. He persisted, bringing me to the edge of my release but instead of allowing myself to boil over, I positioned both my feet on his shoulders kicked him backwards. His head came up, his eyes snaking up my body.

"I need you, _now_." I gasped at him.

I was never one for getting off without having the real deal first. He crawled up the bed, reached for his side table and pulled the drawer open. I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. He kneeled on the side of the bed, about to pull his boxers down, when I rolled over, kneeling up with him. I took the condom, and pushed his hands away from his boxers. I grabbed the material, tugging them down his legs. He slipped off the bed to stand and let them fall away. I brought the wrapper to my mouth and tore a small opening. I ripped off the foil pulling the rubber out. I coaxed him back onto the bed, one hand in his tugging forward. He bent at the knees, kneeling on the comforter.

It was my turn to slide off the bed and onto the floor. I motioned for him to sit, and he swung his legs out from under him and encased me between them. I rolled the condom onto the tip, feeling him harden even more under my touch. I gave him a quick wink before licking around the tip. His legs flexed, tightening around me. I grinned with satisfaction. I continued to roll the condom down, while following close behind with my mouth. When I reached my stopping point, I sucked in, pulling my head back and letting out significant pop from my mouth.

I crawled up his legs, straddling his waist and positioning myself directly over him. His hand dipped between us, testing to see I was ready. I heard his groan of gratification at his findings. Taking my own initiative, I guided him to my opening and dropped down. I let out a cry at the feeling. Without pausing to stop, I rolled my hips into him, creating a friction between us. He grunted to keep up with me, his body raising off the mattress to meet mine. His arms wrapped around me, one hand splayed on my back and the other cupping one breast.

I linked both arms around his neck and continued to push down onto him. Our breathing sped up while our movements became erratic. I felt that all familiar build up in my lower body, swirling to a peak. My noises became louder and breathier. As my peak was about to spill over, Happy flipped the both of us, dropping me onto my back against the bed and landing with his knees on either side of my left leg.

"No." I groaned in complaint.

He chuckled but reached both hands around my bottom and tilted my hips up towards him. He pushed himself forward into me. I cried out at the angle, causing all stirrings to rise again. He looped my left leg up on his shoulder and pushed further in. I called out, as he hit that one spot. The elusive spot that every woman wished her boyfriend knew how to hit. He pulled back and slammed forward again. I writhed on the bed, panting. With each thrust he hit that spot time, and time again. I whined as my orgasm built to a point of pleasured pain. I yelled out an array of mashed words together.

His own orgasm was building, making his movements harder and faster. He grunted with each thrust. His body was angled just over mine and I could see the crazy look in his eye. With only seconds to spare, he grabbed my right leg, threw it over his other shoulder and thrust harder in me.

"Fuuuuuuuuck!" I groaned, the word elongating and permeating into the air.

His body plunged deep into mine, deeper than I'd ever experienced before. I threw my hands onto the bed, my fists curling into the covers. I thrust myself into Happy, wanting nothing more than to come and to have him come too.

"Faster." I breathed.

He acquiesced to my demand and his momentum picked up, pumping into me with abandon. My body writhed more violently as I felt my peak brought to the brink of expulsion.

"I'mamostthere." I mumbled.

He grunted in response, hitting each movement harder than the last. Five, four, three, two, and one.

"HAPPY!" I yelled his name as I finally boiled over.

My orgasm hummed as I let the waves of pleasure take me over. I was spent, ready to roll over and sleep for a week but Happy wasn't there yet. I focused on him, flicking my hips back and forth, keeping up with him. His grunts became laboured and only a few more pumps after he finally found his release.

"Fuck." He groaned, leaning far forward, bending my body so that my knees were close to either side of my head.

The angle caused a second wave pulse through me and I rocked forward another cry coming from lips. We stayed in that position for a full two minutes before he rolled off, dropping down on the bed next to me. We were lying horizontal on the bed, the pillows to our left. We laid there in a comfortable silence, our breaths coming in deep heaves. I could hear as Happy's breathing began to even out signaling that he was starting to fall asleep. I shifted my shoulders, realizing I was still wearing his leather and sat up. His hand reached out and circled around my wrist as I tried to stand.

"Where're you going?" he mumbled.

I smiled into the darkness, "Have something I can wear to bed?"

"First dresser, top drawer." He let go of my hand and pointed to the two pieces of furniture along the wall.

I tiptoed over to the dresser and pulled open the first drawer. I found it full of freshly laundered t-shirts. I grabbed the first white on off the top. I shrugged out of the cut, folded it neatly and laid it on the top of the dresser. I unfolded the white t-shirt as I walked back to the bed. Happy was sitting there waiting for me. I lifted my arms up and pulled the shirt over my head. Before I got it down over my shoulders, Happy laid his hands on my stomach, letting them roam north and over my breasts. I giggled, pulling the shirt down over his arms. I hopped into his lap, and found his lips. I kissed him into submission, falling forward as he laid back down on the bed. I crawled past him and pulled the covers down.

I snuggled underneath them and patted the spot next to me, "Come on, _inmate_. Let's get some sleep."

My voice was harsh, still raw from our previous actions. I heard a quiet chuckle come from him at my loose term of endearment. The bed dip to the side as he slipped under the blankets. He reached out, his arm scooping me in and pulled me against him. I snuggled closer, folding the blankets between my knees and laid my head in the crook of his shoulder. My breathing was still faster than regular but within minutes, both of us were sound asleep, our breathing in tune with each other's.


	18. You're My Favourite Mistake

**A/N: Edited 1-4-2018**

 **Playlist:** M _y Favourite Mistake - Sheryl Crow_

 **Dislcaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

Consciousness crawled back to light, a light groan escaping as I yawned. I lifted both hands to rub the burn from my eyes. There was a distinct pounding centered in my forehead. I felt as though I'd drank the entire bar. A second yawn caught me, while I stretched my arms down along my body. I winced as the movement caused my head to jostle and the pain to explode through my brain. This was easily one of my worst hangovers. Going down in the history books along with all my other brutal memories.

Unable to recall the events of the night before, I rolled over to check the clock on my nightstand. It was a wonder I made it home at all. Maybe someone took pity on me and drove me home after I passed out, or something. I grasped around trying to find my alarm clock but with one peek of an eye, I noticed it wasn't there. I must of fallen asleep on the opposite of my bed. I contemplated rolling to my left, but decided to take a moment and calm the thudding of my headache. I didn't have anywhere to be today, I could just fall back asleep and continue my steamy dream about Happy.

I shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. I tugged the covers closer to me, bunching them up between my legs. As I wiggled into a my favoured position, I felt heat radiating from under the blankets. I shimmied around again, trying to hook my hand under my pillow when I was stopped by another limb there. My eyes shot open and I held my breath. I hadn't been dreaming at all. Those were memories. Real life memories. Of things _I_ did, _we_ did.

I stared at the silhouette of his sleeping face. He was half on his back, half inclined towards me. _Oh shit._ A million and one thoughts ran through my mind blurring with the recollections of last night. My cheeks burned as I remembered how I managed to entice him into this position. _I actually gave him a lap dance, in front of everyone._ I squeezed my eyes shut, scrunching up my faced. _Why didn't I cut myself off?_ I only meant to win at Happy's game. I hadn't necessarily meant to get him into bed. _Shit._

I could still feel the multiple gazes on me, as I stood on their coffee table. All my inhibitions gone with my hips grinding to the music. I was never going to be able to be in the same room with any of them again. They were never going to let me live that down. I even took it as far as whispering innuendos in Happy's ears. I shuddered, completely and utterly embarrassed. I couldn't breathe. I needed some air. I needed a moment to rethink everything I'd done. This was not good. I wasn't supposed to get attached. This was one step too far. I royally fucked up. My number one rule. The only rule. Don't get attached. _Shit!_

I sat up abruptly, wincing and grabbing my head as the thudding came back full force. I ignored the pain, panicking at my complete lack of decency. _Didn't I expect the night to end this way?_ I certainly dreamt about it enough. Goddamn. Dreams were dreams. This made everything complicated. _Did I want to sleep with him?_ Of course. _Did I think it was a good idea to actually follow through with that?_ Not in the slightest. I needed to get out of here. Spend some time alone with my thoughts.

I hopped out of the bed, throwing the covers away from me. The sudden movement jostled Happy and he grunted. I froze, waiting to see if he'd wake or not. Seemingly still asleep, he curled the spare pillow under his arm and tugged it with him as he turned over. Now that he was facing the other side of the room, I had a chance to dress as fast as possible. I made another move forward when Happy let out a long sigh. I paused, my hands gripping my jeans. Happy sat up, throwing the blankets away from him. I cursed under my breath. My heart raced, my blood pumping into my ears, blocking out all sound. Instead of turning towards me, he bent down to grab his boxers before stepping into the adjoining bathroom. The door swung the door shut behind him. It didn't close completely, but I took this moment as my green light. This was my only chance to escape.

I jumped into overdrive, powering through the pain in my head and slipped back into my jeans. Tilting my head down to try and button them caused everything to start spinning. _Fuck._ I was still drunk. I stumbled around the room, searching for my shoes. I heard motion coming from the bathroom. I needed to speed this up. I spotted the shoes by the door. I scooped them up before ripping his dorm room door open. Without a second glance back, I took off down the hall.

I skidded around the corner, surveying the main room.

"Keys… keys… keys…" I mumbled, "Where is my bag…?"

I spun in a circle, trying to remember where I left it. I stared at a bar stool for a second before recalling where I dropped it. I raced behind the bar. My bag was squished between the mini fridge and counter. I shoved my hand into the front pocket, grabbing my car keys. I shot back up and booked it the door. I shoved the door open at the same time someone else was trying to come inside. I rammed into the body, only to have two strong arms reach out and steady me. I didn't bother to see who it was. I wiggled out of their hold and kept going. With my shoes and keys gripped in the same hand, I ran out into the middle of the parking lot. The bright midday sun blinded me, and I nearly crashed into the line of Harley's. I stumbled to a stop in the nick of time, one hand landing on the seat of the nearest one.

"Shit." I swore as I swerved around them.

I continued on forward, reaching my car to yank the door open. I shoved the keys into the ignition. With my foot pressed heavy down on the clutch, I rammed the car into reverse before revving out of my spot. A quick shift into first gear and I was loudly making my exit onto the main street. I continued to shift through the gears as fast as possible, racing through Charming's residential streets. I had no destination in mind. I just wanted to get as a far away from the clubhouse as possible. The more space between me and Happy, the better I was trying to make coherent and informed choices. I reached the main street, and slowed to an appropriate speed.

I found myself veering off towards the freeway on ramp, hoping for the mind numbing of the open road, when a harsh wave of nausea hit me. I slammed on the brakes, pulling over into the shoulder. I slammed down the four-way lights button before gripping the wheel tightly. I clenched my teeth together, counting away the seconds and talking myself out being sick. When I felt like the wave wasn't going to dissipate, I turned the car off and leaned my head against the wheel. My eyes starting watering and that familiar taste of bile rose in my throat. I threw open the door and ran around to the other side, hiding from the cars driving past.

I emptied the contents of my stomach all along the side of the road. I was still too hungover to even attempt a drive anywhere. _Why had I thought driving was a good idea? What the hell was wrong with me?_ I went from making bad decisions to even worse ones. I crouched down, reclining against the back tire and wrapped my arms around my knees. I ducked my head between them taking deep breaths.

"Ugh." I felt like absolute shit.

I relived the night before, recalling each touch. I sniffled as tears began spilling over. To make things even more miserable, I started to cry. _What was wrong with me?_ I liked Happy. Really liked him. It wasn't like I planned to get personally involved with any of them. It just happened. I know I wasn't supposed to get attached. This was temporary. A project. If anything, I was leading Happy on. We all knew I wasn't going to stick around once I was finished. I leaned my head back, the tears stilling and remained sitting alone on the side of the road.

I looked down registering the shirt I was wearing. His shirt. A SAMCRO shirt. I let out a bitter laugh. I left my bag, bra and panties all back at the clubhouse. All I had were Lyla's jeans, Happy's shirt, my shoes, and my car. Great _fucking_ escape. This was a mess. _I_ was a mess. I could only imagine what my face looked like. My makeup must be running down my face. A harsh sob escaped my mouth and I pressed the heel of my hand into my mouth, crying even harder. I wanted to regret it. I wanted to say that the alcohol and weed made me do something I didn't want. I couldn't. All the alcohol did was help me be bold enough to act on my hidden impulses.

Fuck. Stupid panic. Taking over everything and leaving all rational thoughts behind. If I had just taken a moment to process, I wouldn't be stranded on the side of the road. I curled up against the car, pressing my cheek against the cool metal of the back door. _What was I going to do?_ There was no way I'd be able to face Happy again. Not after this. Not after running away. Not to mention that he would never look at me again. He was the one who asked me to stay. He put himself out there enough to let it be known that he wanted me around. Now I'd gone and messed that up by taking off.

I was so sure last night. Sure, of him. Sure, of myself. No second thoughts. _Why was this morning any different?_ Well that was an easy question to answer. I was an idiot. I was running away from the things I wanted. I was running away because it was bound to get complicated. I panicked and took off. I couldn't face my own decisions. Damn. All I needed was a moment to think. I didn't have to run off and ruin everything in my wake. I shook my head, disappointed in myself for overeating. Happy hadn't even done anything besides get out of bed. I closed my eyes for a second and let the black darkness of my regret take over. I would sit this out, and then crawl back to the clubhouse with my tail between my legs.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

He stretched the muscles in his back, rolling the few kinks out of his neck. He smirked, hearing as the bedsprings squeaked at her movements. He listened as she rustled around in his room. He figured there was a chance he'd kick out of the room after waking, but he found that he liked waking up next to her. She was warm, and quiet. Not like the crows. He finished pissing with a tuck back into his boxers. He turned the tap on, rinsing his hands and then pulling out his toothbrush. He started on his morning routine, walking back into his bedroom for clothes. He glanced at the bed and she wasn't there. A check around his room proved that she was gone. Her bra was still hanging off the side of his bed post and her panties were bunched up on the chair. She couldn't have made it far.

He stared at his wide opened door, hearing her rapid footsteps as they went down the hall. In the distance he heard the clubhouse door opened and slammed shut. He turned to the window, peering out and saw as she ran across the parking lot. Straight to her car. He watched as the tires squealed under her duress. She was in a hurry. It took him a full moment to realize what was happening. She was running. He swore out loud, toothpaste flying from his mouth. Had he not asked her if she wanted this? Asked if it was ok. She said she wanted this, him. He stomped back into the bathroom. This was the exact situation he was trying to avoid. Fucking woman!

Anger flooded his veins. He could've spent his night with a sweetbutt. No strings attached. Make his life easy. No, she had to go and be someone completely different. Someone that would never find themselves at a Sons party. Someone who visited him every week in prison. Someone who, even when he was a shit to them, kept coming back. Kept showing him that she wasn't going to let him scare her away. Fuck. He even allowed her to wear his cut. _Was that not enough of a sign for her?_ He couldn't honestly tell you if any other of the Old Lady's were ever afforded the option, but he knew the cut was sacred. It wasn't meant to be worn by just anyone. No one was to handle the leather except for Son. He'd given her a pass dammit and this is how he was rewarded, by her hightailing it out of there.

He brushed his teeth with vigor, spitting the foam back into the sink. He cupped one hand under the stream of water and sucked it in, swishing the liquid around in his mouth. He spat again, wiping the excess water away with his forearm. He stalked back into the bedroom, locating his jeans and pulling them back on. He pulled the first drawer, in the first dresser open and went to grab his favourite white t-shirt when he remembered she'd worn it to bed last night. He swore again, punching the top of the dresser. Grabbing the next best shirt out of the pile, he shoved it over his head and arms. He wrenched his folded cut off the tabletop and slipped into it. He slammed his door shut behind him, stopping down the hall.

In the main room and found the two prospects busying themselves with the mess from the party. He narrowed his eyes before turning into the small kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and stormed out of the clubhouse altogether. Everyone was going to notice her missing. Enough of the boys saw them retreat to his dorm. There was no way they hadn't discussed it amoungst themselves. He stared into the bright parking lot. Everyone would know she left. He grumbled to himself as he sat at the picnic table, lighting a smoke. He shook his head this was the last time he tried getting involved with anyone but crow eaters. Women always ran away from him. Luckily the crow eaters were desperate enough to keep coming back.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

The sound of rushing wind engulfed my ears. I jolted awake, shooting up into a standing position. The quick maneuver reminded me of my earlier predicament and I doubled over, holding a hand to cover my mouth, willing myself to not hurl. Today was shaping up to be the worst one in history. I managed to fall asleep on the side of the road.

"Miss Clarke?" a foreign voice asked.

I startled and glanced up to see the sheriff, Eli Roosevelt, staring at me with concern. I blinked, ensuring that it was him I was actually seeing. I was still woozy but with the help of my hand on the car, I managed to straighten out. Roosevelt took a long look at me and I saw his eyes narrow slightly at the logo sprawled across my chest.

"I'm going to have to bring you in." He stated.

"Why?" I asked, my voice still hoarse from my 'nap'.

He tilted his head in condescension, "Can you even walk straight?"

I blinked a few times, processing what he was implying and then acquiesced, "Yeah, alright."

Roosevelt held out a hand and I took it. He guided me to the back of his cruiser and made sure I settled in comfortably before shutting the door. He got into the front of the car, turned the lights off and did a U-turn back towards the center of town. We rode in silence all the way to the station. When we arrived at the station he was gentle in helping me out of the car and walking me up into the holding cells.

"You can sleep it off in here." He commented, "Need anything else?"

I gave him a sheepish look, "Water would be nice."

He gave a tentative smile, "Alright."

He left the area, leaving me to get acquainted with my surroundings. I'd never been in a police station, never mind a holding cell. Now, not only was I running away for superfluous reasons, I'd been picked up by law enforcement and put in the drunk tank, so it were. Again, my decision had gone from bad, to worse, to worst. _Was it possible to go back to sleep and pretend that this was all a really, really bad dream?_

Roosevelt came back in, sliding the bars open and handed me a cold bottle.

"Anyone I can call for you?" He inquired, walking out.

"Uhm…" I thought out loud. I definitely couldn't call my parents. I still hadn't told them about my project and this wasn't the way to introduce them to it. There was my brother, but he lived out of state. The only people I could think of were, Happy, which was a definite no, and Gemma. I groaned realizing my limited choices, "Gemma Teller-Morrow, if that's alright."

He nodded, a slight crease in his forehead at my groan, and then left me alone for the second time. I twisted the cap open on the bottle and chugged half of it before taking a breath. I leaned back on the hard foam bed, curling on my side. I was getting way too invested with the club. If I couldn't trust myself to remain a third party, or able to walk away when the time came, maybe I needed to rethink this project. I wasn't in this to hurt anyone. Not myself. Not others. What was I going to do? I didn't want to walk away, not now. Not after all head way I'd been making. Happy happened to be a nice side note. Something for me. _Was I going to be able to keep those two separate?_

I cradled my head on my arm, turning to face the wall. Another nap and maybe I'd have a clearer mind of how I was supposed to move forward.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

He was busy working on one of the cars in for a new engine. Even though it was a Saturday he managed to immerse himself in the job without any of the boys pestering him about Elle. It was obvious something was up, but they knew him well enough to leave him alone. He was pissed beyond belief, but even more so, he was worried. He hated the feeling. It wasn't something he ever gave for anyone else, and he couldn't figure out why he was affording her this intimate of an emotion. He had no idea where she'd gone, and it'd been over an hour now. All her stuff was still here. There was a tiny expectation that she'd come back, when she was ready.

He pushed out from under the hood, grabbing the rag and rummaging through the toolbox. He wanted nothing to do with Elle. He wanted to be angry and leave it at that. He didn't want to be left wondering about where she was. Or who she was with. Or if she was safe. Those weren't thoughts he should be having for someone who felt it was ok to run away from him. He heard the clack of heels approaching from behind him. He looked up in time to see Gemma sliding her shades into her hair. She had the office cordless clutched in her right hand, and an expectant expression on her face. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.

She sighed, "Got a call. It's about Elle."

He clenched his teeth. Two things were at play here. Something in the way she spoke, her tone. _Why did Gemma sound worried, and why did it sound like she was about to give him shit?_

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

I had only been awake for a half hour or so. Once Roosevelt knew I was up and around, he arranged for me to wait out the rest of my stay in his office. He kept refusing to let me leave on my own and forced me to sit in his office while waiting for Gemma to pick me up. The man kept a keen eye on me as if he'd been harbouring unasked questions. About fifteen minutes into sitting in silence I finally conceded.

"Just ask whatever it is that you want." I said.

He was taken aback by my abrupt interruption, "What makes you think I have questions?"

"You mean besides the fact that I know you've seen me hanging around the clubhouse and have been glaring at my shirt since you picked me up?" I quipped.

He leaned backwards in his chair, the springs creaking, "Why?"

I scoffed, "I'd like to know what assumptions you've made on your own."

"Crow eater?" He posed.

I shook my head, "Not even close."

"Old lady, then?" He tried again.

"Nope." I answered, making the 'p' pop.

He laid one hand on his desk, his brow furrowed, "Then what?"

I sighed, "Journalist."

If he'd been holding something I'm sure he'd have dropped it as a result of his reaction. His eyes widened, and he straightened in shock.

I didn't give him a chance to speak, "Yeah. Working on my Master's at Berkeley. I needed a good story, thus my hanging around."

He narrowed his eyes, "Do you know how much trouble those men are?"

I shrugged, "I'm on a strict 'need to know' basis and I plan to keep it that way."

"You could be in some serious danger if their 'associates' found out about you." He warned.

"Not an issue," I explained, "I'm only ever at the clubhouse. I've never gone anywhere with them."

I realized that I was lying a little, remembering that I did go on one run with them to Bakersfield. The one where I'd met Happy's mom. I didn't actually _know_ what we were doing. I assumed it was a gun run, considering I wasn't allowed back in the truck on our way back, but I never voiced my hunch to them. There was a loud commotion coming from the other side of the door before it was thrust open and Gemma came barging in, effectively ending our conversation.

"Elle, baby?" Gemma greeted, "What's going on?"

Roosevelt stood up speaking for me, "Sleeping off her hangover."

Gemma gave Roosevelt a deathly glare and helped me up out of the chair, "Come on sweetheart. Let's get you out of here."

I followed Gemma out the door but was stopped briefly by Roosevelt's hand on my shoulder. Both Gemma and I turned to face him.

He eyed me carefully, "You take care of yourself."

I heard the warning in his voice and understood the choice of words he'd used. I appreciated that the man was looking out for me, but there was no need. I wasn't in any danger.

"Thanks. I will." I answered before Gemma ushered me forward.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

It didn't take long before we were pulling back in to the TM compound. Gemma parked her Lincoln in her reserved spot. I kept my gaze down, studying the lines in my hands. She turned the ignition off but didn't open her door. I expected her to berate me. Warn me again about how 'if I was with a Son, then I needed to be ok with the club'. Or some shit like that. I closed my eyes, leaning against the window. I'd been silent for the entire trip back, not sure what to say to her.

In retrospect, I hoped she would yell at me, issue threats. Her silence was much more terrifying than anything. It made it so I had no idea what mind state she was in. I let out a breath, hearing the leather in her jacket groan as she shifted.

"Anything to say?" She finally quizzed.

I flicked my eyes in her direction, "What do you want me to say? That I'm a coward? That I ran away even after you warned me what I was getting into? Do you think I haven't thought up every reason under the sun, and still can't come up with something logical to say."

She chuckled, throwing me off kilter.

"Everyone has their moments. This club - well it's not easy to get used too. This was your first bout of doubt. It happens. It's how you come back. How you prove your loyalty. That's what matters."

I stared at her wide-eyed. Well fuck. She'd gone and given me a pass. A one-time advantage. No one said Happy would, but here was the matriarch telling me that I could mess up once. No more, but this one time was ok. She was giving me the fix it, or leave option. I expected a 'leave and never come back' speech. Gemma reached over and slid one arm around me to press my head towards her. She kissed my temple before retreating and climbing out of her car.

I sat alone in the car for another full minute. Processing. I wasn't ready to face Happy yet, but maybe based from Gemma's reaction, he wouldn't shoot me on the spot. With a deep breath, I undid my seatbelt, pulling on the handle to open the door. It was dusk now, the sun just setting on the horizon. I hopped down from my seat to find Happy reclining against the passenger's side back door. I swallowed, wrapping my arms around my chest. Embarrassment colored my face.

True to his nature, he remained stoic. His eyes were on me, but no indication of any emotion was in his face. I studied his eyes for a moment, noticing that they weren't harsh. That was something. At least he wasn't ready to start a fight. He pushed off the car and began to walk across the compound.

"Come on," He called behind him, "I'm taking you home."

I hung my head, feeling the shame wash through me. I was wrong. Gemma forgiving me wasn't the same thing as Happy being able too. I didn't run out on her. I didn't want complicated, yet I'd gone and created this hostile environment all on my own. Hugging myself, I followed him. When I reached my car, he had the passenger side open and waiting. I slipped in around him, making sure not to make any kind of contact. While he rounded the back of the car, I glanced around to find my bag packed and sat neatly on the back seat. This was prepared.

I reflected on the events that happened while I was at the station. Gemma was the only person I asked Roosevelt to call. Gemma wasn't good at keeping secrets, not that there was any indication this was one. She'd clearly gotten the boys to find and bring my car around. She obviously also managed to mention to Happy where I'd been.

Happy opened the driver's side door and I heard him yelling at one of the prospects, "Get the van and follow me."

From the corner of my eye, I watched as Happy sat down and adjusted the seat so that it was comfortable for him. He pressed the clutch down, and I was mildly surprised. I'd never thought about it before, but driving a manual car wasn't something ordinary. I wasn't expecting Happy to be able too. Although he did drive a Harley. They were manual, of sorts. Of course, he could drive stick.

He pulled away, fiddling with the rear-view mirror then made his way through town. I kept quiet, watching the black van following after us from the sideview mirror. When he hit the freeway, a small bout of nausea grew, and I rolled my window down a smidge. The fresh air would ease the feeling of queasiness. Happy noticed and reached down into the side pocket of his door to hand a bottle of water. Our fingers grazed as I grabbed for it, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Every moment those hands were on my bare skin rushing to the forefront of my mind.

"Thanks." I muttered.

I took a sip, feeling grateful for the water in my system. We sat in silence, only the radio playing softly. There were a thousand things I wanted to say, but nothing I thought up was good enough. Finally, I decided just to be lame and say the one thing I hoped would help.

"I'm sor –" I started to get out the phrase before I was interrupted by him.

"It's fine." He answered.

I creased my eyebrows, confused. _How was this fine? How come he wasn't jumping down my throat about the entire day?_ This wasn't like him at all. When he was wronged, he could be cruel and unyielding. Yet, here he was, shrugging off like nothing happened.

He caught my furrowed brows from the corner of his eye and gave a cocky smirk, "I'm keeping the bra."

My mouth fell open in shock. I couldn't comprehend his statement. He gave me a sly wink and I burst into laughter. Somehow, by the grace of freaking God, he wasn't mad at me. Gemma. She was my 'grace of God'. I don't know why, or how, that woman had taken such a liking to me, but I was thankful for it right now. They'd obviously had quite the conversation if Happy wasn't fuming at my desertion. I was going to bake Gemma a cake. She deserved.

Happy's hand slid off the gear shift and landed on my thigh. I stared down at it, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He gave a light squeeze. I laid my hand over his, folding it around his palm. This was it. This was the moment. The one Gemma told me about. Where I showed where my loyalty was. No more being afraid. It was all or nothing. No more panic attacks in the mornings and running away. I was in this for Happy.


	19. Something Pulls Me Back to You

**A/N: Edited 3-13-2018.**

 **Playlist:** _Powerful (feat. Ellie Goulding & Tarrus Riley) - Major Lazer_

 **Disclaimer:** Sutter/FX own SOA

* * *

I was leaning back against the picnic table, with Happy's legs encasing me. My left shoulder was propped against his inner thigh, allowing me to feel even closer to him. The warmth from his body radiating around me. Making me feel safe. I glanced over, seeing as he bickered with Chibs, his beer spilling from his inebriated gestures.

His entire body was engaged in the conversation. Exaggerated by the amount of alcohol he'd consumed thus far. Each of his movements rocked my body along with his. With a content smile, I relaxed, letting myself go along for the ride. Shifting a minute amount, I allowed myself to see both men as they argued. Their words began to build in sound, becoming more aggravated. I attempted to remain engaged, but the rumble of Happy's voice soothed my mind into pure bliss. I loved the way his tone became even more gravely reverb, the more heated he became.

I zoned out, a permanent smile was plastered to my face. The last week had been phenomenal. At first, I wasn't sure what to expect. Other than my minor freak out – things had been alright. I worried that there was potential for our dynamic to change now that everything was out in the open. The reality of the situation was that there was nothing to worry about. Once Happy made a decision, he saw it through.

I was always of the assumption that the Sons were a bit loose when it came to their women. I learned quickly that – depending on the Son – that wasn't the case. With Happy, it was a permanent lock down. Nothing came between this Son and his Old Lady. Although I could still argue that I wasn't that yet. We were exclusive, but I didn't think Old Lady was the proper definition for what I was to him. I was perfectly fine with being his girlfriend.

I tried not to laugh at how adolescent the term sounded. It was a juvenile way of defining our relationship, but it seemed to help the rest of the club determine where we were at. As long as Happy and I had the details, I wasn't worried about the labels everyone else chose.

Overall, life in Charming hadn't changed much for myself. The biggest change was how I was received by the Crow eaters. They had taken to meeting me with ever more attitude, and an eye of jealousy. I learned through Lyla that they had been taken any chance I wasn't looking to try and pry Happy into their clutches. However, according my own two eyes, and Lyla's sources, Happy hadn't even spared them a second glance. Especially when I wasn't around.

Since meeting Happy, and coming to Charming, my life had done a complete three sixty. I compared myself to Alice, lost in Wonderland. My white rabbit being Happy, and his pocket watch his Harley. Here I was chasing my own outlaw biker, creating my own distorted fairy-tale. I chuckled to myself at that thought. How cliché.

Typical to every other Friday night, they were hosting another one of their weekly parties. I'd noticed that of late, their gettogether's had been dialled down since the first 'Coming Home' one. The group remaining of only immediate members, their old lady's, the crows and the occasional Nomad. Following this strange twist of fate, I'd been lumped into the Old Lady category and always welcomed amoung the group of men.

I was brought out of my reflections when Happy knocked his knee into my side, searching for my attention.

Tilting my head back, I gazed up, "Yes?"

"Tell Chibs," He began, "How we saw a coyote."

I shook my head in amusement, they were akin to children when it came to petty arguments.

I switched my gaze to Chibs and nodded, "It's true. Broad daylight, a coyote was strolling along the shoulder of the highway."

"I told you!" Happy burst out, rocking my entire body from his excitement.

Chibs rolled his eyes, "You're just agreeing with him to get on his good side. Coyotes don't come out in the day time." He turned his face to me, his face filled with disbelief, "No offense sweetheart."

I shrugged, it was no matter to me. I didn't care. Happy could get as worked up as he wanted, I was just enjoying the view. Embracing the many faces of my Son.

Happy jumped up, standing above me, lifting his shirt up to expose his stomach. With the other hand, brandishing a still lit cigarette, he pointed to his ink, "I swear on all 12."

Chibs' face fell into a blank sheet before it contorted, and he howled with laughter. Losing control of himself and dropping his beer bottle. He doubled over, laughter wracking through him.

Through laboured breaths he submitted, "Alright, I believe you. I didn't realize you were that serious."

I watched Happy's face convert to one of a man who'd gotten his cake and eaten it too. I shook my head, highly entertained by this entire argument. As amused as I was, I didn't miss the crucial meaning that stood behind Happy's declaration. Those little smiley faces meant something, and the number of them too. My curiosity peaked, and I was dying to know their significance. Instead of speaking up, I kept that tidbit of information to myself. There would be a better time to ask him about them.

"Damn right I was serious." Happy huffed, dropping his shirt and promptly sat back down. He scooped up his beer and chugged the rest of the bottle.

Chibs left us alone to go find more booze and I spun around, swinging my legs over the bench and facing Happy. I rested my elbow on his upper leg, using my hand to cup my chin and stare up at him.

"Was all that necessary?" I inquired, "It was just a coyote."

He narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at me, "Listen here woman,"

His voice deepened as he let the last word trail off. I let my arm fall from him and exaggerated a shiver at his use of the word woman. It always had an effect on me. I couldn't explain it, but I loved it when he called me woman. He leaned in closer to me, repurposing his finger to lift my chin towards him.

"Like that did you?" He mumbled.

I nodded my head in a slow deliberate motion, "Mhmm."

He dropped his smoke, bringing both his hands to frame my face. He pulled me upwards and I used my arms, flattening my hands on the table to push up into him. Our lips met one another in a private touch. I let the tip of my tongue slip out and run along the crease of his lips. He groaned and let go. I scrunched my face up, not pleased at him leaving me hanging. I fell back down onto my seat and found myself in line with his crotch. I watched the impish grin form on his mouth as he clocked exactly where I was seated. His hand slipped around my head and I felt him dunk my head towards his groin.

I flung my head back, my mouth dropping open in fake shock, "Happy!"

He let out playful chuckle. I shook my head, at a loss. He raised one eyebrow in a suggestive manner. A grin formed on my mouth. He always had a way of making me forgive him for being a little shit.

I shook my head laughing, "You're the worst!"

His response was to reach down, grab my arm and jump down from the table. My entire upper body was hurled forward as he tugged me along. I stumbled over the bench and chased after him, trying to keep up so my arm wouldn't be ripped out of the socket. Damn man. When he was excited, there was nothing that could stand in his way. I giggled as I finally caught up to him, his giddy aura rubbing off on me. We passed through the clubhouse door and bee lined it for his dorm room, ignoring the world around us.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

"Anything to worry about?" Tig asked.

He had joined Kozik standing across the parking lot, by his bike. Regardless of any old feuds between the two, they would always have a deep understanding for one another.

Kozik shook his head, knowing that the sergeant-at-arms was only looking out for his brothers, "No."

Tig allowed Kozik the moment to digest the question, knowing that he would eventually elaborate. Kozik wasn't a man of few words. When he needed to say something, he made himself heard. They both stared at the same scene, Happy and Elle. They were sitting together at the picnic table, Chibs and Happy engaged in some sort of conversation while Elle was snuggled in close to Happy.

Tig was smarter than most assumed and he was very attuned to his brothers. He knew that Kozik was hurting, whether he was obvious about it or not. That's why he was here now, questioning his brother's resolve. There was enough turmoil surrounding the club, he didn't need his brothers going after one another, especially not because of some broad.

It didn't matter how much he liked her, or that he enjoyed that fact that Happy seemed to have found a worthy counterpart. He needed all his brother's at the top of their game. They were getting deeper in with the cartel. This wasn't a time to have silly squabbles with one another.

With a deep sigh, Kozik continued, "Hap's in a good place. Besides, she's never shown interest in me. Nothing to get hung up on."

Tig let out the breath he was holding. This was the news he was hoping for. Smooth sailing.

He smacked Kozik's back with a loud thud, "More crow eaters for the rest of us."

They both laughed, dissolving the tension. They watched as Happy stood on the table, shouting about something or other. Chibs made his departure and there was a sudden lull in the night. Mere moments later Kozik found himself watching as Happy kissed Elle, ultimately pulling her up from her seat and guiding her to somewhere more private.

He shook off his feeling of unease. He didn't want to think about where or what they were getting up too. He needed to find the nearest crow and fuck the thought of being with Elle away. He was just wanted the best for her – _and if he was honest with himself_ – she had that with Happy.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

We had the sheets thrown haphazardly over our naked bodies. Happy's torso was bare in the moonlight, while I was curled against his side, one leg tangled in both of his. I was busy admiring his ink and tracing around the smiley faces. He had one hand in my hair, his fingers running through the strands right at my temple. I listened to Happy breathe, smooth and calm. We'd been lying here for the past half hour.

"Can I ask you a question?" I broke the silence.

He looked down at me, a short nod, giving me permission.

I pressed a little harder on the next face I traced, "What do they stand for?"

His ministrations in my hair halted and I watched as his face darkened at my inquiry. I narrowed my eyes at his response. There was a long silence that followed what I thought would have been a simple question. His eyes never left mine, but his face remained as intense as the second the words came out of my mouth.

I knew they meant something, but now I was seeing that it was more than just having a significant meaning. It was deeper than that. They represented something. Something specific to Happy, or about him. I decided that whatever they meant, maybe it wasn't worth ruining the great night we were having. I opened my mouth to voice my change in interest when he finally spoke.

"You don't want to know." He said. Point blank, to the point.

I tilted my head to the side, "You don't know that."

"It's club business." He explained.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, "Does this fall under the 'need to know' rule?"

He nodded, confirming. I sat up, bunching the sheets in my fist and pulling them up to keep me from being exposed. I crossed my legs and stared at him. We'd reached an impasse. I had an intense desire for this bit of information, but at the same time I didn't want to compromise the rule. It had kept me comfortable, and safe. I had no reason to question these men with the rule in place.

There was so much I hadn't learned about him. I wanted to spend my days and nights studying him. He was arguably the most interesting Son. However, I was starting to see that knowing him, meant knowing club business. Was I ready to learn some club's secrets? I didn't want to put Happy in a position that could endanger him.

"If you aren't comfortable with telling me, I understand." I sighed.

I was leaving it in his hands. It wasn't my right to pester him about something personal. If, or when, he decided it was time, I'd be here to listen. If he never was ready to give me that information, I would let it go. I wasn't an official old lady, and the club was clear about the rule from the beginning. Even I agreed with it.

Another silence flowed around us. It was neither comfortable, nor awkward. It just was. I had reached the point where I was certain he wasn't going to say anything more on the matter and I laid back down. I snuggled against his body, showing him that I wasn't about to start a fight over an unanswered question. His arm was immediate to encircle around me, his fingers returning to their last spot, running through my hair.

"They're a head count," His rasp came out more pronounced than usual, "Of each kill I've made."

I blinked. The realization hitting me full force. His pet name, Killer. It all made sense. Happy was the hired hand. The one who performed all their kills. I knew the 'club' moniker was a farce, but I hadn't fully delved deeper into what they were. He was a murderer, as harsh as that sounded. It was the truth.

I froze, my body becoming rigid. His fingers stilled at my reaction. I processed the information, remembering in vivid colour as he shouted to Chibs the number he had tattooed on him. My memories began to swirl, throwing me back to the first time we slept together. There was a fresh smiley on him that night. He'd killed that day. The blood drained from my face as that sunk in.

Terror, the one that had emerged when I first laid eyes on him, rose within me. My instincts were correct. I tossed them aside as being scared of a prison. Instead they were right. I had every reason to be scared of this man. A pang shot through my heart. Did I have _every_ reason? He'd never shown me that side. He had been cruel, he'd been mean, but that was different. We were both confused. Unsure of our own feelings.

Happy shifted under me. His arm fell away and he moved to sit up. His motions brought me back to the present, away from my mind. Even as the chill settled at the base of my spine, I wasn't ready to let him walk away. If I'd learned anything about him, it was that he more action, less talk. He needed physical reinforcement. He needed to see my thoughts in my actions, not through my words.

I reached out and grabbed him, forcing him to stay where he was. I wasn't going to let him up and leave. I'd already run away once. I didn't need him thinking I was going to do it again. Not before I properly contemplated everything.

Holding him tight I murmured, "Don't. Give me a minute to process this."

Stiff in his resolve, he settled back onto the bed. He remained upright, his back pressed against the backboard. He kept himself in a position for an easy getaway. I lessened my grip on his side, lightly laying my head on his shoulder. There was only one thing I needed to know. It wasn't my place to judge his position. All I needed was one reassurance. I inhaled, staring at the black of the room before me.

"Am I safe?" I asked.

I didn't need to speak the crux of the sentence – _from you_ – he understood my meaning.

"Yes." There was no hesitation in his answer.

My eyes fluttered closed, my heart pounding. Tears welled, and I fought to control them. I didn't need to cry. He confirmed everything. I had no reason to fear him. Contrary to everything I'd ever been taught about men like him, I was safe. Not only that, I felt it. He wouldn't hurt me. I toyed with the idea of him protecting me, but that was something that would come with time. With a more established relationship. I couldn't make assumptions this early on.

"Relax." I ordered, softening against him, "I need you here with me. Right now."

I knew he was keeping himself at bay. Holding himself deep within his own thoughts. I didn't want either of us to get lost. This wasn't the moment. What we both needed was to just be together. I heard his forced exhale, but he inched forward, his arms encasing me. I laid my head against his chest and pressed a kiss on his pec.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his steady heartbeat soothing. I reached for one of his hands, pulling it to my chest and lacing my fingers through his. I held him close. Slowly, he slid back down into the bed, both of us lying together. As the quiet around us melted into comforting air, he lifted his fingers to my temple. As light as a feather, he skimmed them through my hair, calming himself. I wasn't going anywhere. He'd allowed himself to believe and accept that fact.

He'd given me a large amount of information to process. I let myself go, falling asleep to the rise and fall of his chest. A proper night's sleep would help with a clear head in the morning. Being cuddled against him gave me the confidence that I could remain unaffected by his job. There was a tenderness in him. One that wasn't easily afforded but was stronger than all his emotions when it was finally shown. He showed me nothing but devotion since we cleared up our feelings for each other.

Was he a killer? Yes, but he was _my_ killer.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

"All of you look over here!" I yelled, frustrated that none of them were cooperating. "Dammit." I whispered to myself.

Happy and Kozik ignored me, the both of them laughing about something. Chibs, Jackson and Juice all had their heads together conspiring. Clay and Piney were staring daggers – _both on opposite ends of the group_ – at each other. Opie stood farther behind everyone, feeling out of place. Tig was the only one actually facing me, with a stupid grin on his face. I rolled my eyes and stomped around the tripod. Clay turned to face the camera, while I physically pulled Jackson and Chibs apart, placing them in their respective places. They both chuckled at my frustration.

"Opie, beside Jackson." I ordered, and he moved.

I finally reached Kozik I shoved the camera remote into his hand, "Hold this and go stand next to Ope."

"Yes ma'am." Kozik gave a mock salute before sauntering away with my remote.

I huffed facing Happy and I was greeted by a staggering smile. I pinched my lips together, unimpressed at his attempt to feign innocence. I reached out, gripping either side of his cut.

" _Your_ brothers are going to drive me mental." I complained.

He shrugged, a bark of laughter exploding from him. I took this moment to calm myself down, flattening my hands on the outside of his leather. I smoothed both hands down the front, closing my eyes for a minute. I had an inkling that this could possibly have been my worst idea ever. Why I ever thought it would be easier to have all these men line up for a group photo, was beyond me.

"Hey Elle!" Kozik yelled, "What does this button do?"

My eyes snapped open and I glared up at Happy. He masked his amusement with that perfected stone-cold expression. I was ready to snap knowing exactly what Kozik had done.

"How many times did you press it?!" I shouted.

He threw his hands in the air in surrender, while Jax and Opie broke out into loud rounds of laughter.

I gave a side glance to Happy and hissed, "I might actually kill him."

Happy stifled his laughter at my rage and widened his eyes as he tried to keep himself composed. I stalked over, snatching the remote out of Kozik's hand.

"It takes the pictures." I spit out through gritted teeth.

I glared at Kozik until he fell into line. I stomped back over to the camera, peaking through the peep hole with one eye. I centered the camera, adjusted the zoom and then the focus. Once I was satisfied I signaled them to get ready.

I held up my hand free hand, three fingers brandished, "On my count." I shouted, folding one finger down at a time, "Three. Two." Altogether they shouted, "One!" I rolled my eyes but pressed down on the button and heard the snap of the lens, taking the picture.

I gave them a shooing motion with my hands, dismissing them, "Go away."

With loud snickers they all dispersed. Happy hung back, keeping a safe distance as he watched me detach my camera from the tripod. I went through each motion of packing away my equipment with careful ease. I used my microfiber cloth and wiped down each lens before putting on the caps and storing them in their proper containers.

As I worked on putting everything away, I calmed down enough to rethink my original plan to steal Hap's glock and shoot Kozik in the kneecap. He was a ringleader, always off starting some shit. I wasn't a violent person, but these men were the embodiment of the word and it was starting to rub off. I shook off the horrid plan and zipped my bag shut.

Happy extended his hand to me, I took it and he pulled me to a standing position. He pushed the stray hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ears. His eyes bore into mine searching for any real anger. Once he was satisfied that I was over my little freak out he gave me a slight smile.

"Feeling better." He asked, one hand framing my face.

I rolled my eyes, "A little."

"Good." He paused, his hand falling back, "I want to take you somewhere."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Now?"

"No."

He reached down and slung the strap of my camera bag over his shoulder and scooped up the tripod. He began walking towards my car. I followed, keeping in step beside him. When we reached my car, he held out his hand for my keys. I dropped them into his outstretched hand. He unlocked the trunk and packed away my equipment with more caution than even I used.

From the very start, I caught on that Happy was a man's man. He needed to be the one doing the heavy lifting. Since I'd been around, I hadn't had to carry a coffee mug without Hap swooping in and taking it for me. I'll admit that at first it bothered me, having always been fiercely independent, but after a while I started to enjoy him waiting hand and foot on me. I felt like his Queen.

Either way, his actions didn't go unappreciated. For every item he carried, or door opened, I reciprocated with an action of my very own. Simple things like stopping to pick up a pack of cigarettes even when he didn't need another yet, or always having lunch available for him when he took his breaks. It was equal footing between us, neither being undermined by the other.

"I have the weekend off," He started as he pushed the trunk closed. He sat against the butt of the car and I joined him. "Want to go for a drive?"

I gave him a wide grin, "Depends, am I driving, or are you?"

He let out a deep sigh, "If it means that much to you, you can."

I punched the air before calming to answer appropriately, "Then yes. Where're we going?"

"To see my mom."

I leaned against him, fitting my head in the crook of his shoulder. This was another step forward. The last time I saw his mother, we weren't being too friendly to one another. Going to visit her together was the same as him introducing me to her as his girlfriend.

"When do we leave?" I murmured.

His arm slid around my waist and squeezed, "Saturday, in the morning."

I nodded in response, turning to plant a light kiss on the side of his neck.

"I'll be here." I whispered into his skin.

His hold tightened around me and we remained sitting on my car enjoying the sunny afternoon together. The rest of the boys were going about their business, some working in the shop, some in the clubhouse. Either way, I was content. This was where I belonged. I was confident enough to say that I cared for them, all of them. These people were my family.


	20. If I Didn't Have You My Baby

**A/N: Edited 3-13-2018**

 **Playlist:** _Sing It Out Loud (Freddy Verano Remix) - OMI, & Crazy Love (feat. Tarrus Riley) - R. City_

 **Disclaimer:** **Sutter/FX own SOA**

* * *

It was midday and we'd already been on the road for almost two hours. Both windows were opened, the salty air rushing around us. I was subjecting Happy to my ridicules varying musical tastes. Songs ranging from eighties work out anthems to present day trap music.

I raced around the tight turns of Route 1 while Happy's fist was tightened around the door handle, his knuckles white with tension. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the twitch of him clenching his teeth together. My laughter rose through the air, circling around the both of us. He was terrified of my driving. Was I speeding? Of course. Was I being reckless? Not at all.

I knew my driving habits bothered him, but overall it was the confines of being in the car that really got to him. He drove a Harley. He was used to being out in the open, having control over how his vehicle moved. Being in an old, hatchback Honda civic, didn't leave much room for control. Aside from switching gears.

Happy grit his teeth as I weaved around another corner. I smiled. Today was different. Today I was excited. Today it was just us. No club. No Charming. Only us and the open road. This was a day we got to spend together. Alone. The excitement of having him all to myself was bleeding through into my driving. There were even a few times when I saw his right foot jam forward to press on an imaginary break.

Realizing that there wasn't an immediate rush for us to be anywhere, I slowed to a more moderate speed. I turned the radio down, allowing the sounds of the drive to circle around. I coasted along the highway, taking in all the various sights we were greeted with. There was the roving waves, crashing against the shore, and the squawking of sea gulls above us. Happy's clutch on my door loosened and he relaxed back into his seat.

I was quick to notice the lack of tension in his body and it made my smile bigger. He let one hand hang out the window, his forearm resting on the pane, and closed his eyes as he laid his head back on the headrest. It wasn't often that Happy was completely at ease, and knowing that I was a catalyst in his comfort was an ego boost to say the least.

I gazed out over the ocean, brought back to our 'first date' and the first time I was on the back of his Harley. We'd already passed the spot where we watched the sunset, but I wanted to stop. We'd been in the car long enough anyways. He may be used to long drives, but I enjoyed having the option to stop and stretch. I continued on, searching for a place close enough to the water so that I could dip my feet in.

For someone who lived in California, I definitely didn't spend enough time in the ocean as one would hope. While I was distracted by my search, Happy reached out and laid his palm on my upper leg, just above my knee. He squeezed with a light flex. I glanced over at him, to find him watching me. I could see the questions in his eyes. He noticed I was deep in thought and was curious about what I was thinking. I gazed back out on the road and found my perfect escape.

I slowed down, veering off the main road onto the shoulder. Happy sat up straighter, staring out the window and gazing back at me. I turned the car off, making sure to turn the hazards on. I slipped out the door, using my hip to slam it closed. I jogged around the car towards the beaten pathway leading to the beach below. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Happy hadn't budged. I spun around, grinning wildly.

"Come on." I beckoned him to follow.

I saw as he let out an audible sigh before pushing his own door open. I tossed him the car keys and took off running down the path. I raced past the many shrubs and rocks, feeling my hair get picked up in the wind. I lifted a hand to try and tuck as much behind my ear as possible. I spun around, seeing as Happy followed at a leisurely pace behind me. I turned back forward and found myself in the opening of an alcove.

I gazed around, loving the beautiful scene around me. The sun was bright in the sky, shining down on me. There were slabs of stone covering the north side, and beige sand covering the entire south side. I kicked off my Chuck's, tossing them onto the nearest stone and padded towards the water. I stood on the edge of the shore, the tide tickling my toes. I took a few more steps in, submerging my feet up to mid-calf in the lukewarm ocean. I was already wearing quarter length jeans, rolled up into capris so I didn't have to worry about wetting my pants.

I heard Hap's trudging steps as they approached and turned to find him leaning against the same rock where I'd thrown my shoes. He kept his eyes on me assessing my giddiness. He seemed wary of my frame of mind, unsure of why I had him come all the way down here. I gave him a bright grin, bearing all my teeth and dashed over to him.

I hopped up on the rock, flinging sand behind me and knelt on top of him, trapping him between my legs. Looping my arms around his neck, I pressed both hands into the back of his head guiding him towards me. I locked him into a passionate kiss. He was knocked backwards at my enthusiasm and flung one hand out behind him to keep us both leveled at an angle. I shifted my legs, wrapping them around his hips, and settling into his lap. I wiggled my hips, making sure he knew I had found the perfect spot. I felt his chuckle roll through his chest causing our kiss to break.

"What has you in such a good mood?" He raised an eyebrow.

I winked, "I have you all to myself today."

"Is that what all this is about?"

My excitement finally clicking for him. I nodded and attacked him again. He met me with the same intensity. I moaned into his touch, feeling carefree. His tongue swiped at mine and I indulged him. He used one hand to steady me by placing it in the middle of my back and then flipped us over. I squealed as I was air born and he snickered.

With a gentle hand, he laid me down against the rock, his body covering mine. We gazed at one another for a long moment before he leaned in, capturing my mouth in his. I arched my back up, lining my torso against his. I tightened my legs around him, dipping him in closer to me. He growled at my desire and yanked me forward, his mouth hard against mine.

"Happy." I murmured against his lips.

He broke away from me, our foreheads pressed together and breathing in heavy puffs. His eyes bore into mine and I could see hunger behind them. I gave him a seductive wink to which he responded with a roll of his eyes. Instead of stepping away, he let his body sag into mine, plastering us against the stone.

"Woman, you're going to be the death of me." He growled.

I bucked my hips against his, for a second time. Letting all the subtlety float away with the wind. He braced himself, both hands planted on either side of my head. He lowered into another kiss. This one hard and desperate.

"We have somewhere to be." He rasped.

I pouted, "We have enough time."

He shook his head, pulling me back up into a sitting position. I narrowed my eyes at him in a playful glower but pulled feet up and began dusting them off. Happy handed me my shoes, waiting until I had them on securely before offering me his hand. I grabbed on, hopping down from the stone. We continued up the path towards the car, strolling side by side, in mutual silence.

He pulled my keys out of the back pocket of his jeans prepared to hand them to me but I shook my head, "You can drive."

He moved to walk around to the driver's side when I caught his arm and pulled him back to me. I planted a fierce kiss on his mouth and backed away opening my door.

"You owe me." I smirked, giving him a sly grin.

I heard his grumble as I shut the door and pulled my sunglasses back over my eyes. Today was going to be a good day, I knew it.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Another two hours later, we pulled up to the tiny two-story house where his mother lived. The sun still bright in the late afternoon sky, but nearing the setting colours of evening. He turned the ignition off as we both climbed out of my Honda Civic. I followed Happy up the front steps, standing close beside him as he pulled the creaking screen door open.

"Ma?" He called as he entered the house.

"In here." She answered, indicating that she was in the kitchen.

We both kicked our shoes off, leaving them placed orderly by the front door and advanced into the kitchen. Happy pulled out a chair at the small table and watched as his mother focussed on whatever she was making for dinner. I paused at Hap's shoulder, for a second before trotting on past and to stand beside Leticia.

"This smells amazing." I sniffed the closest pots contents, in appreciation.

She dropped her wooden spoon and screamed in delight, "Elle!"

She grabbed me by my upper arms and tugged me into a tight embrace. I reciprocated her hold while turning a head to Happy. He was leaning back in his chair, a tooth pick rolling from one side of his mouth to the other.

Both his mother and I hollered in unison,

"You didn't tell me she was coming!"

"You didn't tell her I was coming?"

All he did was shrug and I laughed at his aloofness before turning back to Leticia.

"What can I help with?" I asked, as I went to grab the wooden spoon she dropped.

She smacked my hand away, "Don't be silly. You're my guests, I'll be the one doing the cooking. Go sit down over there with my son."

I kissed her lightly on the cheek and made my way back over to the table. Happy pushed the nearest chair out for me with a shove of his foot. I dropped down onto the seat, one leg folded beneath me.

I caught Hap's eye and mouthed, "Why didn't you tell her?"

He shook his head with no answer. I pursed my lips. He had his reasons for everything. I would learn in due time why he kept this from his mother. I didn't know what kind of schedule Happy kept when it came to visiting her, but I could assume it was often enough. I got the sense that there was as secondary reason as to why he wanted the both of us to come out here this weekend.

Without leaving us too long with our thoughts, Leticia called out, " _Mijo_. Set the table, please."

Hap stood up, making his way over to the cupboards and pulling out three place settings. I offered a tiny bit of help by clearing off the kitchenette table, making sure the place mats were set accordingly. Happy moved around me, putting out plates, cutlery, napkins and serving utensils. Once he was finished, he grabbed the hot plates of enchiladas and Mexican rice. I noticed the way Happy was manoeuvring around his mother and realized that she was moving slower than the last time I was here.

Happy was worried for his mother's health and didn't want to over exert her by mentioning that I was coming. He knew that she would have done too much in preparation for my visit. Happy laid out the last of the food and took his seat next to me. I offered him a gentle smile and laid my hand on his wrist. He gazed over at me, and nodded with understanding. Leticia made a cooing sound and we both snapped our heads in her direction. She held her fingers to her mouth and was admiring where I had placed my hand. I pulled my hand away with a nervous laugh and Happy rolled his eyes.

"Oh _mijo_." She almost spilled out into joyous tears, " _Ella es la ideal para ti, no te atrevas a dejarla ir. [She's the one for you, don't you dare let her go.]_ "

"Ma." He very nearly whined.

A second later I found both my hands caught up in her grasp as she showered me with words in Spanish. I had no idea what she was saying and decided I didn't need a translation. Happy was shaking his head at his mother's chattering so I could assume by her tone and his reaction that she was probably going on about how cute a couple we were. I smiled at that thought. Happy being cute. That was hilarious and downright impossible. Happy didn't do cute. Once my hands were free I copied how Happy had portioned his food onto my own plate and the three of us dug in.

We spent the next hour or so enjoying our time together, eating, chatting and laughing. Once everyone was nice and full, Leticia made a move to get up. I stopped her, scooping her plate from her hands and piling it on top of mine and Happy's. I skipped into the kitchen, dropping the dishes into the sink. I turned on the faucet, pushing the plug in place and letting the hot water fill up. I ducked down below, pulling the cupboard open and finding a bottle of dish soap. I popped open the stopper and poured a decent amount into the running water.

I rolled up the sleeves of my cotton sweater and submerged my hands into the water, grabbing the first dish and began scrubbing away. Happy followed, having cleared the rest of the table and leaving the pile of dirty dishes next to the sink. Systematically I washed each dish, set it on the other side of the counter while Happy picked up a towel and dried each piece. Leticia sat back in her chair and praised us both for our generosity. Neither Happy nor I allowed her to think anything of it. We were just being good guests and cleaning up after ourselves.

While we worked away I got Leticia talking, getting her to tell us about her day. I inserted the customary answers into the conversation and after his mom went on a tangent about her last doctor's appointment, I felt Happy's shoulder brush against mine. I paused, gazing up at him. He was admiring me, a ghost of a smile on his face.

I could see the appreciation in his eyes and knew that he was thankful for my presence. More for his mother's sake than his own. I grinned at him and bumped my hip into him. Quick to respond to my playful move, he dropped the rag from his hand and stretched out, grabbing my bottom. I hopped forward, unprepared for his frisky touch.

I widened my eyes at him, jerking my head in his mother's direction, and hissed, "Happy!"

He raised one eyebrow, challenging me. I flared my nostrils and scooped up some suds, flinging them out of the sink and into his face. He coughed, sliding a hand down across his face, wiping away the soap. I grinned at him in innocence when I saw the scowl on his face. He narrowed his eyes at me and I leaned away from him, concerned for his retaliation.

He bowed down, close to me and growled, "You'll pay for that later."

I smiled, my tongue caught between my teeth and blew him a kiss. He straightened up and went back to drying the dishes. I giggled to myself, proud that I got away with harassing him. It wasn't every day that he let someone get away with throwing soap at him.

* * *

 **~(SOA)~**

* * *

Not too long after we finished the dishes, I excused myself leaving Happy to spend some much needed alone time with his mother. I sauntered out onto the front porch, perching myself in the middle of the first step. I gazed out at the sunset, as it was now being extinguished into the horizon. I couldn't remember when I'd last been this pleased with my life. Everything was perfect.

There was irony in the fact that the man that made me this happy, was named Happy but I wouldn't dwell on that fact. I twisted around and snuck a glance through the front window, seeing the shadows of Happy and his mother still sitting at the table. I knew that he was concerned for her, realizing that was why he wanted to come out here. It was strange though, seeing a man with his reputation being sweet and loving.

When we first met, I never would have guessed that he had such a varying range of emotions. I didn't get to see him outside of being around the club often, but I could tell that the way he interacted with me, his mother and his brothers, wasn't something everyone was afforded. He was a private man, keeping himself hidden. A shiver ran down my spine as I was reminded about who he was for the club. I faced forward and contemplated the position that I could potentially find myself in, recalling Roosevelt's words.

The sheriff warned me to take care of myself and I thought I understood his meaning then but with the information I had now, I knew nothing at the time. Even with the reality of our situation, I still couldn't be bothered. Happy was flawless, with all his imperfections and status. I found that I didn't care what he did for a living, as long as he cared for me. I realized the catch twenty-two that type of thinking put me in. Knowing full well that there was another woman out there that felt the same for her lover, and that lover could very well be the next man that _my_ man targeted. I shrugged off the uneasy feeling I was creating in myself and went back to appreciating what I had.

In my zone, I failed to hear as the screen door opened. I must have been shivering because the next thing I knew, Happy had draped his zip-up hoodie around my shoulders. The sweater hung forward, engulfing me in its fabric. I grabbed fistfuls of the front and snuggled in further, cocooning myself in the warm material. I pulled the fabric up to my nose and inhaled, revelling in his familiar scent. Happy lowered himself down on to the step next to me and loosely wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He tugged me closer to him, while I laid my head against his shoulder.

"How's she doing?" I asked into the night breeze.

He nodded, "She's had better days." There was lull between us before he continued, "She wants us to stay the night."

I knew that in his own way he was asking if I was alright with that. I agreed with a nod of my head. Without warning I inclined towards him and left quick peck on his cheek. He let out a small breath and turned to stare at me. His other hand crept up and he ran his fingers through my hair, flattening his palm on the back of my head and tugging me in closer. I closed my eyes, waiting for our mouths to connect but to my surprise, he didn't kiss me. Instead he pressed his forehead against mine.

I opened my eyes and found that he'd closed his. It was a times like these that I wished I had the ability to read minds. This man was an enigma, and continually astonishing me. It was quiet around us only the typical night sounds lifting into the air. I pushed into him sinking into his torso. I wanted nothing more than to just be here, with him.

I rearranged my hands, using them to hook onto him and crawled over his legs, settling sideways in his lap. His eyes opened at my change in position and I curled forward, lining my shoulder with his chest. I snuggled in, laying my head in the crook between his head and neck. To balance us properly, he leaned against the wooden bannister, alleviating some of the weight.

"Hap." I mumbled and he grunted in response. "I'm... I-uh…" I sighed, at a loss for words, "You make me happy." I finished lamely.

I waited for him to say something, anything but instead he tucked my hair away from my face and planted a chaste kiss on the top of my head. It was all the answer that I needed from him. The sun had disappeared completely, no hint of the last few strands of light left, taking away any semblance of warmth with it. I figured now would be a good time to go back inside.

"Can we – " I started but was cut off by a persistent buzzing near my thigh.

Hap shifted to the side, his hand delving into the pocket of his jeans and pulling his burner out. He flipped it open and answered. I sighed predicting the outcome of his call. The call was short, as he gave brief answers to his whereabouts and then hung up.

As he was dropping the burner back into his pocket I asked, "Back to Charming?"

He nodded and made way to stand. I straightened my legs out and together we rose up, each on a different step. Together we approached the door, readying to say our farewells.

"So that's going to be a thing." I mused to myself, as I walked through the entrance.

Happy stilled behind me, "That a problem?"

"Hmm?" I mumbled, gazing up to see the venom on Happy's face. I creased my eyebrows, "What? Oh, no." I shrugged, "I was just realizing that club business takes precedence."

He raised his eyebrows, staggered by my response.

I smirked, "You thought I was going to put up more of a fight?" I shrugged, "Why mess with a good thing? You have your job, I have mine."

I went to turn away from him but was halted by him shoving me against the wall. I let out a small gasp on impact that was immediately smothered by Happy's mouth. I bit down on his lip, hard enough that he growled. Then he kissed me with a force that matched his character.

This kiss wasn't tender, not like the one he gifted me with moments before. No, this one was fierce and dominating. Our teeth clashed together as we clamoured over one another in pure passion. I groaned as his hands dipped below my shirt and splayed across my abdomen. I pushed him against him, causing him to stagger backwards.

With heaving breaths, I reminded him, "We have to go."

He rolled his head back, grumbling in protest at my rationale. I dragged my shirt back down over my midriff and attempted to flatten my frayed hair. I turned away from him, making my down the hallway and out into the living room, where his mother was curled comfortably on the couch.

"I was beginning to wonder where you two had gone off too." Leticia smirked with a wink.

I inclined my head to her, but instead of returning her look of joy, both Hap and I gave her sad smiles. She frowned, knowing exactly what we were going to say next.


	21. I've Been Missing You Lately

**A/N: Here's something to wet your beaks until Wednesday =)**

 **Please leave me a review or a PM, let me know where're you're at. I want to know =). Also - I find its waaaaay easier to get back to you on Tumblr. You can find me there under the name** crimsonheart01 **.**

 ** _Shout out to those I can't PM: Monica & Guests – thank you for consistently updating me on your thoughts. I can't stress enough how much I appreciate it! I always want to know! _**

**Playlist:** _Checking for You – R. City & Coffee (F***ing) [feat. Wale] – Miguel _

**Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA**

* * *

A week… One whole week. Happy had only been gone a week and I'd already deep cleaned my entire apartment, organized all my folders with photos to be developed, arranged the portfolio for the project and managed to make it to my weekly class. By Wednesday I was bored as hell which is how I found myself meandering around campus, looking for something to do. For the life of my I couldn't recall what I used to do to keep myself entertained. The one thing that kept me going was the sporadic calls I would get from Happy. About twice a day, at the most random hours, I would get a call from him just to check up. I had yet to hear from him today, but knew that it would come at some point. I threw my head back, letting out an exasperated huff. _Had I always been this boring?_ There was one good outcome of this whole week and that was when I found my trusty old Polaroid camera. One of the ones that was released in the eighties and my parents let me have when I took an interest in photography at a young age. I still even had a bunch of boxes of film for them, which based on my Google search, was going for near sixty bucks for 8 negatives these days. With film being that expensive I knew that I needed to save the ones I had for a special project. I wasn't sure what would be special enough to justify using the film, but I was certain I'd find something worthwhile. With nothing else to catch my attention, I decided to make the short trek home. I shuffled along, dragging my feet to make the walk a tiny iota longer. I wished for something to occupy my time and as if the heaven's above were listening, the trill of my phone began to go off. I glimpsed at the caller id and grinned.

I slid my finger across the screen to answer, "Hey girl!"

"Elle?" Lyla sniffled on the other side.

I stopped in my tracks, "What's wrong?"

On cue, Lyla's sniffles became full on sobs, "She's here… I… and Opie…"

"Where are you right now?" I cut her off.

She took a deep breath, "Hiding in a closet at the studio."

"Need me to come rescue you? Have a girl's afternoon?" I figured whatever was bothering her could be cured by a little time off.

"Please." She pleaded.

"Alright. I'll drive out. Be there in an hour. Meet me at TM?" I gave her instructions, hoping that it would take away from her problems.

"Okay." She answered.

"See you soon." I replied, hanging up and jogging the rest of the way to my apartment.

I bounded through the lobby doors, skipping up the steps two at time. Once I was inside, I grabbed my bag, keys and sunglasses. I did a quick glance around, spotting the Polaroid 600 Camera sitting on the coffee table. I paused, one the fence about using it but ultimately decided that having a bit of fun with it for Lyla was meaningful. I scooped up three boxes of file and the camera, shoving it all into my bag and shutting the door behind me. Off to Charming I went.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

When I pulled up to TM, the lot looked ominous without the familiar line of Harley's parked on the side. I spotted both Lyla and Tara sitting at the picnic table. I met with the two other women, witnessing Tara's simple hug with Lyla.

"Elle." Tara greeted with a tentative smile.

I pulled her into a brief embrace, "How's it going?"

"Keeping Lyla some company until you got here." She answered.

I reached out and squeezed Lyla's hand in mine, "You alright?"

She shook her head, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She opened her mouth but I stopped her, "Let's focus on something else. Why don't we go shopping? Or get mani-pedis?"

She gave a half-hearted nod and wiped away the few stray tears that escaped. Tara stood excusing herself and rounding the table. I narrowed my eyes at her retreating back. She'd been acting strange for the last couple of weeks and I wanted to know what was up.

"I'll be right back." I informed Lyla before jogging to catch up with Tara. I reached and touched her arm, "You want to come with?"

Tara startled and spun around, "No, no it's alright. I have to get back to work anyway."

"What's wrong?" I demanded.

She couldn't hide it from me. Something had spooked her. Did it have something to do with why the boys were gone for the week?

She shook her head, "It's nothing." I raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed, "I'm stressed… Getting engaged… the club with the cartel and the death note. I'm just – "

I cut her off, "The what?!"

She grimaced, "Oh shit. I'm sorry Elle."

My eyes widened, "Cartels? They're working with cartels?!"

Tara's hand covered my mouth and she shushed, "Be quiet! You're not supposed to know."

My heart thudded in my chest while I thought about Happy on the open road, nothing to protect him from being shot at. Did this mean they were into drugs? I had an inkling they dealt with guns, but drugs too?

"Calm down." Tara advised, "They're all fine. I spoke to Jax 20 minutes ago."

I pulled my phone out from my pocket with the intention to call Happy. Tara covered my hand with hers and shook her head.

"Seriously Elle, everything is fine." She soothed.

I took a minute to breathe and center my anxiety. If Tara had just spoken to Jax, then everything was fine. Happy always called, always checked in. He would call sometime soon. He wouldn't let me down. I tucked my phone back in my pocket and gazed up at Tara.

"You sure you don't want to spend the afternoon with us?" I confirmed, hoping that she'd give in.

She shook her head, "I really can't. I have to get back to the hospital."

She turned around and climbed into her SUV, leaving Lyla and I to our girl's day. Lyla walked up next to me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, resting my head against hers. Half a year ago, I would've never thought one of my good friends would be a porn star. I had my regular friends, those everyday ones that I saw on campus, or around the city but Lyla was something more. We clicked. I knew she was hurting, and I knew she would give me the low down when she was ready. Right now I just needed her to know that I cared, that I was her friend and no matter what, that wasn't going to change.

"You wanna drive?" I asked.

She nodded and we both piled into her car.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

Lyla and I were relaxing in our massage chairs, one lady at our feet, another at our hands. This was exactly what we needed. A day of pampering. On the way over, Lyla had explained the entire story all the way up to the point where she called me hiding in a closet. She told me how Opie wanted her to stop with porn and he thought having a kid was the way to get her out but with the cartel business she wasn't prepared for the dangers of bringing another life into this world, and kept taking birth control behind his back. She told me how he found it one day when him and Jax came to ask about Georgie. While her and Jax were off looking for her producer, Opie stayed in the dressing room and discovered the pills. They had a huge fight over it and she admitted to having an abortion recently. Opie ended up packing up his things and staying at the clubhouse. When she went looking for him the next day, she found Ima leaving and confronted her, learning about Opie's adultery. There were tears, there was swearing and then there was silence. Through the whole recount, I held on to her hand tightly, reassuring her that I would always be here for her. Whenever ever she needed a shoulder to cry on, or even someone to vent too, I was only a phone call away. When we arrived at the salon, I did everything in my power to deter her thoughts from her troubles and gave her a day to relax, regroup and think positive thoughts.

"What're you thinking of for your hands?" Lyla asked, browsing through a look book.

I shrugged, "Probably just boring French tips."

She frowned, "No. I'll find something hot for you."

I laughed as she put her mind to work on finding something for me. While she was bookmarking certain pages I felt the vibration of my cell shoot through my leg. I leaned on my side, digging into my back pocket and pulled it out. All my stress faded away as I read the name on the caller ID.

"It's about time." I answered.

"Excuse me?" He demanded.

"This has been the longest you've gone without checking in." I complained, "What if something had happened? How am I supposed to know that you're ok if you don't call? You've been gone too long. When are you guys getting back?"

He waited until I was done ranting and spoke, "Finished?"

I sighed, "Yes."

"Good. What're you doing?" He asked.

I smiled over at the picture Lyla had shown me, "At the salon with Lyla."

I heard the smirk in his tone, "Getting dolled up for me?"

"Maybe I was… but with that attitude maybe you aren't going to get anything." I teased.

He growled, "Don't test me, woman."

"Just come home. We can fight about out who wears the pants in our relationship then." I joked.

I heard his light chuckle through the sound of rushing wind, "We'll be back Saturday night. Think you can hold out that long."

I groaned, "You're trying to kill me here Hap. I'm tired of waiting…." I hesitated for a second, worried that I might be moving too fast but my heart won over my mind, "I miss you."

There was silence on his end, only the sound of cars and other men talking in the background. I ground my teeth together, throwing my head back onto the seat. I turned to face Lyla, who'd been eavesdropping on our conversation. She gave me a tense reassuring grin, knowing exactly what I was fretting about.

In the background I heard Koz's shout, "Hap! Let's go."

"Saturday." He stated, "We'll be back then."

"Ok." I murmured listening as he hung up.

Lyla reached over, rubbing her hand on my forearm, "He likes you. Don't worry about it."

I shut my eyes, "I should've just left it light. We've never really talked about how we feel for one another."

"They're all like that." She smiled, "Tough on the outside but secretly the biggest teddy bears." Quick to change the subject she flipped open her magazine and pointed to a nail style, "What about this?"

It was gaudy design with glued on rhinestones and wild colours. It was busy and uncoordinated. I hated it.

"You're not serious, are you?" I gaped at her.

She broke out into giggles, "No! Of course not, but the look on your face was priceless."

I shoved m hand into her arm joining in with her giggles, "You're going to make me crazy."

She grinned at my and then turned past a group of pages, pointing out her real suggestion.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

I waved as Lyla drove off down the street. We had a great day and I was able to cheer her up, if only for a few hours. I hadn't realized that her and Opie were having such troubles, but at the same time knew it wasn't really my place to get involved. I would always be here for Lyla whenever she needed me, and give her advice based on my opinions, but in the end it was their marriage and if they wanted it to work out, they'd have to work on it together without interference from anyone else. She had to go and pick up the kids from the babysitter so she dropped me off at TM, where I'd left my car. I dug through my bag for my car keys. The limited light in the compound making it difficult to see so I settled for dumping everything out onto the asphalt behind my car. While I rummaged through my mess, I heard a distinct roar coming from the side streets. My jaw dropped in shock as I watched the line of Harley's enter the complex. Clay parked, Jackson next to him, Tig after him, Chibs, Happy, Juice, Kozik, Bobby, and finally Opie. I stood up from my squatted position and placed both hands on my hips. Each of the men demounted their bikes, laughing and joking. I narrowed my eyes spotting my Son.

"Happy Lowman!" I scolded.

Every man spun around to find me standing across from them. Happy dropped the cigarette he'd been about to light in surprise, while Kozik gave him a firm pat on the back.

Chibs nudged Happy's shoulder, "Looks like someone's in trouble."

All the boys broke out into a fit of laughter while I stomped over to them. Happy unfroze from his shock and met me halfway.

I smacked his bicep, "You lied to me!" His eyes smoldered as he stared at me. I creased my eyebrows, giving him a side glance, confused at his expression, "You said you weren't going to back until Saturday!"

His hands shot out, one tucking into my hair and the other pressing into my lower back. His lips smashed into mine and I melted into him. Both my hands landed on the edges of his cut and I yanked him closer to me. Apparently he missed me too. I didn't expect him to admit to it, but having him here and being greeted to this kind of reaction solidified my decision to tell him how I felt.

"This doesn't change the fact that you lied." I murmured around his mouth.

His hand on my back slid down, grabbing a handful of my bottom and he mumbled back, "Shut up."

An eruption of wolf whistles, catcalls and whooping broke out from the peanut gallery behind us. Without having his lips leave mine, Happy extended his hand behind him, flashing all the boys the finger. Their laughter rose, cheering for their brother. Happy pulled back, looping his arm around my waist and began to steer me in the direction of the clubhouse. I followed for a few steps then remembered that the entire contents of my purse was laid all over the lot.

"Hold on!" I ducked away from him, skidding over to my bag.

I scrambled to shove everything back into it, pausing when I reached for the camera. A cunning grin formed on my mouth as I thought of the perfect payback. I threw the strap over my shoulder and ran back to Hap, my camera brandished as a weapon.

Happy hauled the clubhouse door open while I blew the boys a kiss, wiggling my eyebrows, "Goodnight."

Hap jerked on my arm, "Elle!"

The boys outside roared with laughter as Happy yanked me through the door and out of sight.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

Once inside his room, I dropped my bag on the floor, and placed the camera on the bed. With haste I undressed, tugging at my clothes unable to get them off fast enough. In my excitement my head got stuck in the opening of my shirts, tangling with my hair. My arms flopped still, unable to wrangle myself out. Happy's chuckle sounded from next to me and I poked my hip out.

"A little help would be nice." I muffled through the material.

His placed his hands on my bare stomach, running his fingers up my torso, slipping underneath the fabric and pulling it over my head, freeing me from my prison. He dropped the shirt and sweater into a heap on the floor while I pulled on the button of my jeans. I wiggled them down my hips letting them pool around my ankles. I jumped up onto the bed and spread out, leaning against the head board.

"Strip." I ordered.

His eyebrows rose into where his hairline could have been.

I smirked, "Punishment for lying to me."

He rolled his eyes but started pulling off his layers, "I lied because I was going to surprise you at home tonight."

I let out a sweet giggle, "You're adorable."

He grumbled at me, something about how a man like him wasn't adorable but burly and masculine instead. He tugged his t-shirt over his head and I saw his white boxers peeking out from below his jeans. With a seductive curl to his lip, he moved forward about to crawl on to the bed when I grabbed my camera and snapped a photo. The flash ricocheted through the room. I blinked half a dozen times readjusting to the darkness of the room.

"What the fuck." His voice rumbled in the newfound darkness.

I dropped the camera on his side table, the picture in my hand and kneeled up. I waved the film in the air, waiting for it to develop and stuck my tongue out at him.

"Something for our own little art project." I winked.

He lunged forward, knocking me flat on the bed and reached over, grabbing the camera for himself. I squealed throwing my hands up to try and shield my face but he'd already taken the picture. He laid the camera down next to us, taking the picture from it as well as grabbing mine and dropping them down on the table.

"I have a few ideas on how to use that camera." He growled in my ear, nipping at my jaw.

I moaned, "I'm sure you do."

I wrapped my legs around his waist and flipped the both of us so that I was on top of him. I caught both his hands in mine, curling our fingers together and sliding them high above his head, while lowering my chest towards his face.

I flipped my hair over my shoulder and nipped at his ear lobe, "We have enough film to last us all night."

I rolled my hips against him and planted my mouth against his, sucking his lower lip between my teeth. He attempted to pull up but I slammed his arms back down on the bed.

"I call the shots tonight." I whispered to him.

He licked his lips and complied, "Whatever you say, sweetheart."


	22. I Was Falling Deep, Deeply In Love With

**A/N: Buckle up… It's a bumpy ride from here on out. Hang in there! We're gonna make it… I promise! I will still be posting on Wednesday! A general note to everyone, this is the first chapter I wrote for this story. This is the chapter that inspired the entire thing. **

**R &R! I need to know where y'all are at! **

**To every single of my readers – I appreciate everything you've done, be it just consistently come back or leaving a review. All of it is greatly appreciated. This story would not have made it this far without each and every one of you.**

 _ **If there is one thing I can recommend for this chapter, it would be to play Bad Religion on repeat while reading it. It sets the tone for Elle's mindset.**_

 **Playlist:** _Bad Religion – Frank Ocean & Home – Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros_

 **Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA**

* * *

When I pulled up to the clubhouse the boys were all milling around the front doors. After being reunited with Happy, I went back to San Francisco and spent the rest of my weekend on finishing up the project. I still had half a dozen folders on my hard drive of RAW images I hadn't even glanced through, but figured I had enough for what my general plan was. At least I had backups if I ever needed them. I only had one last piece of the puzzle before I could hand everything in. All I needed now was a final confirmation from their President for my renditions. I still wasn't entirely sure how Clay would feel about my version of their logo, but he was the only one in a position to give me permission for the change. Last I'd spoken with Happy, he mentioned something about a vote happening and that they'd all be at the clubhouse for most of the morning. I was here to take advantage of that and corner Mr. Morrow. I made my way over to where they were all hanging around. Most had lit up, cigarettes hanging from their fingers and mouths. There was an overwhelming strain hanging in the air. Opie was huddled next to Jackson, a ways away, keeping their distance. I snuck up next to Happy, setting both hands on the table, and hopping up, perching on the edge. In response to my presence, Happy shifted, angling himself towards me. One of his hands extended, resting next to my thigh. Kozik acknowledged me with a simple nod but continued to speak in hushed tones with Happy.

I dropped my bag down next to me, looking up at Happy who was deeply invested in his conversation with Kozik. Interest had me tempted to ask what was up with the club. It didn't seem like they'd voted on anything, yet there was still an odd air surrounding them. I clamped down my curiosities knowing it wasn't my place to ask questions. I wasn't a Son and I wasn't sure where I sat with the old lady aspect. Across the compound I spotted both Tara and Gemma packing the boys into Tara's SUV. I offered a small wave and was greeted with terse nods from both women. I frowned, noting that there was definitely something brewing; something that was affecting everyone. I wondered what club business could possibly be bothering those two, knowing how strong they were as individuals and women of the club. Tara pulled out from the parking lot, Gemma close in tow. With nothing to keep my attention, I flipped open the flap of my messenger bag to double check that I brought my sketch book with me. If I had forgotten it I would be pissed but it was in there, safely tucked away. As I folded the flap over my bag closed, there was a distinct sound of screeching tires. An eruption of loud bangs began going off in succession, the sound of metal smashing against metal, and I looked up just in time to be scooped up off the table and flipped in the opposite direction I was facing. All I could see was the chest of a man barreling towards me. I felt a sharp pain pierce into my side but quickly forgot by my body being slammed down onto the pavement. As my back hit the ground I gasped, winded from the fall. I felt the forearm of the man on top of me wrapped around my neck, saving my head from the impact of the drop. I registered the blinding pain in my side once again chalking it up to being slammed into the pavement. I blinked a few times, confused from my fall. My ears were ringing from all the chaos. The fact that I couldn't hear distracted me and panic began to settle in. _Why couldn't I hear anything?_ I felt the rumble of a voice above me. The chest of a man was still covering me and the only thing I saw was the lettering of 'SAMCRO' across the white t-shirt. There were muffled shouts close by but I couldn't make out any words. It felt like I was underwater. Sounds rushed past my ears, muffled in their noises. _What was happening?_ After what felt like an hour someone shook me and I focussed on that person.

Happy's mouth was moving but my ears were still buzzing.

"WHAT?" I yelled, over compensating for my disability.

Happy wrapped an arm around me, pulling me upwards, ducking forward and hurrying into the clubhouse. Abruptly sound erupted in my ear drums and I flinched, covering my ears with my hands. The sudden movement brought my attention back to the throbbing in my side. I must have landed on something sticking out of the ground. Before I could dwell on my discomfort, I was guided to one of the couches and pushed down into the seat. Happy let his hands linger on my shoulders for a minute asking me another question. I furrowed my brow, squinting at him. I remembered that I had my hands covering my ears and pulled them away.

"Sorry?" I said.

"Are you hurt?" He asked in a curt tone.

I shook my head. I felt fine other than the persistent sting in my side. I didn't think it was important enough to tell him about, seeing as I was just thrown onto the ground. It was probably just a contact injury. He didn't say anything else, he just stared at me for a moment judging whether or not he believed me. I gave him a forced grin and he accepted my stability before walking away and into the Chapel, following after all the other Sons.

I sat on the couch watching as the majority of people around me disappeared behind closed doors. The prospects, Chucky and a few crow eaters were the only ones left to keep me company. I felt beyond useless. I still couldn't pin point what was happening. There was something tugging on my subconscious, informing me that I knew exactly what was going on but I couldn't put my finger on it. I felt my eyes glaze over as everything around me slowed down. My vision blurred while my body inched forward, falling towards the ground. In a feat of extreme willpower I caught myself before crashing into the coffee table. With my hands braced on the edges I gazed around, everything had stopped, popping into my vision like photo stills. My entire life had turned into a movie of freeze frames. I tilted my head to the side, disoriented and unable to place where I was. My breathing became laboured and I felt a chill overcome me. _Where was I? Who were these people? Did I know them?_

Off to the side, the double doors to another room burst open, with a miniature army of men in leather filing out. One of these men stopped in front of me causing my heart to jump. I paused as he told me to sit tight, that he'd be back soon. My eyebrows wrinkled together and I couldn't figure who this man was, and why he was telling me to stay here. I stared up at him, a blank stare in my eyes. My expression caused the man in front of me to falter. He seemed torn on whether to stay here or to follow after the others. His head turned in the direction of another door and he ultimately crossed the room, pausing to call a scantily clad woman over to him. He pointed in my direction and the woman nodded. While I was staring after the group of men who'd left, a blonde woman in a mini skirt came over to me, taking my hands in hers.

"Are you feeling ok?" Her voice was sweet, concerned.

My head was no longer attached to my body, floating up in the clouds. I stared down at my hands firmly clasped in this woman's. _Are those my hands? Why can't I feel them? Who was this woman? Why did she look so familiar? Did I know her?_

My body heaved, bile rising in my throat while I lurched forward.

"I need a bathroom." My voice came out in a harsh whisper.

I pulled a hand away from hers to cover my mouth. A pronounced gag shook through me and I squeezed my eyes shut. The blonde woman grabbed my other hand and tugged me in the opposite direction of the door where all those men left through. We rounded a corner and was greeted by a long hallway of horrible coloured carpets and wooden doors. She walked past the first two before turning to the third door on the left.

"I don't think Happy will mind you using his room." She smiled and opened the door for me.

She motioned with her hands for me to go in. I shuffled in unsure of why this woman was being so nice to me.

"I'll give you some privacy. You call if you need me." She reached for the knob and shut the door behind her.

Once I was alone in the room I went into a full on panic. A sheen layer of sweat covered me from head to toe. I spun around, swaying on my feet, but grabbing the doorknob and turning the lock. There was a resonating click and I heard a voice call from the other side and I ignored it. When I didn't answer whoever was on the other side thumped against the wood. Looking for an escape route, I spun on my heel and booked it for the only other door in the room. I burst through and found myself in a bathroom. _Oh…right_. I fell to my knees, ripping the toilet seat up and heaving into the porcelain bowl. The tears streamed down my face as I threw up everything in my stomach and more. I heard loud banging coming from somewhere outside the bathroom I was in.

"Be there in a minute." I murmured only loud enough for myself to hear.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and decided I needed a nice warm shower. Once I was showered I could curl up in my bed and sleep off this stomach bug. That would make me feel better. I stood up and turned the faucets on. I pulled the lever that caused the water to spray from the shower spout. I lifted myself up and over the edge of the tub and stood under the spray of the water. The water around me turned a bright red and I doubled over from the renewed agony in my side. I lifted my black t-shirt and found a metal cylinder lodged in my side.

"Oh…" I breathed.

I sank down into the corner of the tub, my hand pressed heavily into the wound. I leaned my head against the tiled wall. Realization came crashing in around me. I understood what the sound of banging had been; gunfire. Tears spilled over from the wells of my eyes. _This is it. This is how I die. How pathetic is this? Alone, in a bathroom surrounded by a pool of my own blood… Who would've guessed?_ My eyelids fluttered shut, the pain overcoming my will to stay awake.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

Happy tread heavily through the clubhouse, around the corner and was greeted by the horde of useless prospects and crow eaters. He was pissed. He gave the crow eater one fucking job; keep an eye on Elle. Kozik was following quick at his heels, only knowing that Elle had locked herself in his dorm.

"Move!" he snarled.

Everyone dispersed and he lifted his foot, smashing it into the handle. He had no time to bother with using a key, not that he had one anyway. The door swung open, the hinges squeaking in protest. Both he and Kozik burst through the entrance, searching the room. No sign of her. He caught the sound of running water and charged for the bathroom. The door was already ajar and with his shoulder he flung it wide open. His eyes gathered the scene he was confronted with. He froze. There in the bathtub was a near comatose Elle. Her foot had clogged the drain, water filling the basin and spilling over onto the floor. The thing that caused fear to rip through him was the colour of the water. It was a diluted red.

"Shit." He swore.

He lunged over the edge, both legs submerging into the now freezing water. He grabbed Elle by her upper arms, shaking her.

"Elle!" He shouted, searching her face for some kind of response.

Nothing. He pulled on her eye lids hoping that would aid in waking her up. When that proved useless he leaned forward, placing an ear near her nose. He could hear the shallow breaths she took and that gave him a tiny semblance of hope. He ran his hands along her body, searching for where the blood was coming from. He poked and prodded hoping to find something.

"Come on," He grumbled, "Elle!"

He continued to search regardless of the water trying to hinder him. He pushed her up, his shoulder hooked under one of her arms when he noticed her other hand pressed into her side, underneath her shirt. He pulled her hand away from her side and lifted the material. What he found sent chills down his spine.

"Fuck." He hollered, "Kozik!"

Kozik shot into the bathroom, slipping on the wet floor grabbing the sink for support, "What?"

"Elle… She's been shot" He strained.

Kozik's face drained of all blood. He took a second to compose himself and then leaned over to help. Together they propped her up, looping her arms around both of their shoulders. Happy lifted one leg over the basin, steadying his stance while Kozik took the brunt of her weight. Happy pulled his other leg out, water sloshing all around, making even more of a mess. The two men carried her hanging between them into Happy's room and laid her out on the bed with gentle hands. Once she was settled on the bed, he allowed his own horror to break through.

"JACKSON!" He shouted.

Jackson, Chibs and Clay all came clamouring into the room. No one had ever heard Happy in such distress. He was always even tempered at all times.

"What's going on?" Jackson asked, eyes glancing down at the soaking wet woman.

Happy lifted her sweater, showing them the gunshot wound.

Clay swore while Chibs shouted, "What the fuck?!"

"Tara!" Jax screamed.

Tara burst into the room, terrified at the alarm in her fiancé's voice. She gazed around at the men who were all focussed on the other woman in the room. She sped towards the bed, mirroring Happy's position on the other side, next to Kozik. Happy lifted his hand where he was applying pressure.

Tara's eyes widened, "H-how…?"

Tara and Happy's eyes met and she saw the anguish rippling through him. He blamed himself, feeling guilty for leaving without doing a thorough check.

"Chibs, get my kit. It's in the main room beside the diaper bag. Kozik, Jax, Clay get everyone away from the door and get out." She ordered the men around her.

"Happy," she addressed him, pulling the pillow from the case and ripping the fabric into strips, "Wad this up and press against the wound."

He nodded taking a strip of fabric from her and pressing it to the still bleeding wound. Chibs was back in seconds bearing the emergency kit Tara always carried with her. Tara filled a syringe with morphine, and injected it into Elle's forearm.

"Chibs grab some gauze for me. I'm going to try and take the bullet out." Tara ordered.

Happy's gaze was transfixed on the woman lying in his bed. His teeth ground together as he fought with the blame of her condition. She had to pull through… She could survive this. His lips lifted into silent grimace as his guilt transformed into anger. Fury at the Lobos Sonora. This would have never have happened if it weren't for them.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

"How's she holding up?" Jax asked as his fiancée slipped past the door into the hallway.

"She'll heal. We're all lucky that it missed all her organs. Nothing was irreparable." Tara explained.

Jax tilted his head, knowing that she was hiding something, "But?"

Tara shrugged, "I don't think there'll be any coming back from this…"

They both turned and gazed through the partly open door. Happy had his head bowed, both his hands grasped one of Elle's. She was still unconscious, the morphine keeping her out long enough to do some minor healing.

"That man there… That's a man in love." Tara whispered, "A man who's going to do everything in his power to make sure she's safe…"

Jax stared at his future wife, understanding the grave severity of her words.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

"We can't have a journalist walking around with this kind of information to hold over us." Clay shouted.

"Be reasonable." Jax countered, "She hasn't even woken up yet. I'm sure we can convince her not to say anything."

Clay slammed his fist into the table, "She's a liability. We can't let her leave Charming."

"And what do you suggest we do? Kill her?" Jackson mocked.

Clay raised his gaze to meet Jax's, an expression of pure evil on his face.

Jackson shook his head with vigor, "We're not going to kill the girl. Happy will never let it happen."

"Happy will do what's best for this club." Clay hissed.

From behind them they heard a short intake of breath. Both men snapped their heads around to find Elle leaning heavily on the door frame.

"Shit." Jax swore.

She limped into the room, dropping a sketch book onto the table, "These are for you to approve." She turned around while the President and VP stared after her. She stopped at the door, a hand reaching out and curling around the casing, her knuckles white with stress, "You have my word… Whatever that may mean to you… That I won't talk about happened here today… Ever."

Without allowing them a chance to reply to her promise she pushed off the door and disappeared into the bar area.


	23. Lights Will Guide You Home

**A/N: Most of this chapter is written in Happy's POV. Again - I will still be posting tomorrow =) Tell me all your thoughts and all your feelings.**

 **Playlist:** _Fix You - Coldplay_

 **Sutter owns SOA**

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He parked his bike a few meters down the block but remained in eyesight. He turned off the ignition and leaned against the metal vehicle. He angled himself in the direction of the building, keeping a close eye on her. He pulled a cigarette out, lighting up and blowing out the smoke. He didn't fault her. She had a scare and was in self-preservation mode. He wouldn't admit it to any of the guys, but he was worried about her. They noticed her absence, it was hard not to. She gone from spending every waking minute in Charming, to being so scarce it was like she was a figment of their imagination. Regardless of her scarcity, they still went on with their lives. He liked to think that none of the boys were as affected by her as him but he guessed that that wasn't entirely true. Before he'd gotten out, she and Kozik had built a decent foundation to their friendship. He could tell Kozik felt the weight of her absence. Then there was Chibs. She met Chibs while he was still inside and they'd grown to have a sibling like relationship. Even after her first encounter with Tig, on their first night out, she'd managed to move past that and embrace him for the oddity that he was. However, there was one other person who had been as touched by her presence as him, and that was Lyla. He didn't know how, or when it had happened but the two of them had become fast friends. He'd been hearing murmurings from some of the pornstars that Elle had been ignoring Lyla's calls. Knowing that she was actively pushing everyone from Charming away bothered him, but more so that she was deliberately ignoring the one woman who'd gone and made her welcome in a world full of jealous and covetous females. When he really thought about it, she'd touched each of their lives in a different way. She wasn't just the journalist, she was their friend; sister and his woman.

It'd been weeks, and she still hadn't made her way back. He didn't think she ever would. Not everyone was made for the type of life they lived. She'd witnessed her first tasting of what being associated with the Sons was really like. If he expected her to come running back into his arms, he was kidding himself. When he was honest with himself, he knew he didn't expect her to ever step foot in Charming again but there was always that small ray of hope. His brothers all made an effort to keep talk of her to a minimum, unknowing that he'd been off checking on her.

In order to ensure her safety, he'd taken to making regular trips to Berkeley. He never once approached her, knowing that she needed her space. She needed to work through what happened. He was positive she noticed him on more than one occasion, but she never acknowledged him. Today he was only here to check that she was still on the road to recovery and then he was off. The club wasn't aware of his little side project and he wanted to keep it that way. They didn't need to intrude on her life any more than they already had.

She was sitting on the steps of the main university building, holding a take-away coffee cup in her hands, a light smile on her lips. She was surrounded by what he assumed were her friends. He didn't actually know. He'd never asked her about her life before SAMCRO. He examined the people around her. They were regular, much like her. Not criminals, like him. He dropped his cigarette, snuffing it out under the tip of his boot. He needed to get going but allowed himself another minute just to watch her. He let himself get caught up in her smile. It was tentative and didn't seem genuine, but it was better than the bland expression of nothing he'd seen her sporting of late.

He admired the way she dressed. It was a drastic change from the girls back in Charming. She was conservative but in a way that made her sexy, not closed off. Today she was wearing a pastel blue cable knit sweater, with her dress shirt popping out at the neck, sleeves and hem. He noticed she was still wearing loose jeans, rolled up over her ankles, and a simple pair of all white Vans slip-ons on her feet. The loose jeans bothered him, not because he wanted to see her wearing something revealing, but because it was a potential sign that she couldn't wear anything else, out of discomfort from her injury. His suspicions were confirmed as he watched her stand. She tried to disguise the wince as she stood but he was in tune with her expressions. She couldn't get anything past him. He watched as she lifted a hand to her right side, but in the same movement let it fall, hiding her pain from those around her. She bid her friends goodbye and began walking down the stairs, turning towards her building.

He stood up, gazing after her, concerned. He needed to know why it wasn't healed yet. At this point she shouldn't be experiencing that level of pain just from standing back up. He fought with himself about going after her, and eventually his heart won. He followed her up the block, worried. He needed to know that she was ok. It didn't look promising with the way she was carrying herself. She seemed strained and that wasn't a sign of healthy healing. He left his bike behind, parked where it was. He wasn't going far, she only lived a five minute walk from the school. He maintained a decent distance, sure that she hadn't caught him following. He hadn't figured out what his plan of action was and he didn't want her pre-emptively catching him. He wanted to have a good explanation for if he did decide to approach her… not that there ever would be one. When he rounded the next corner, he watched her back disappear through the clear doors of her apartment building. He surged forward, racing to catch the door. He grabbed the edge, his rings clanging metal against glass. He cringed, sure that she'd turn around at the noise but all that happened was seeing her disappear up the first flight of stairs. He took a deep breath and pulled the door open wide. More careful this time around, he balanced his heavy footfalls to be as muted as possible and ascended the stairs. He'd never been inside the building, but he was aware that her apartment was on the second floor. He slowed as he reached the last few stairs, turning to gaze over the bannister. He watched as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door.

There was a pause and without a turn in his direction she spoke, "I know you're there…"

He clenched his teeth, pissed that he hadn't been as stealthy as he thought. She'd definitely heard him catch the door. From her tone, he assumed she wasn't interested in seeing him. He remained in his place, watching her enter her apartment. He waited for the resounding click, or even a slam of the door but it never closed behind her. He contemplated the implications of his next actions. She knew he was there. If he turned and left, it could be another knife in her heart, adding to the one already lodged deep within her. He squeezed the railing deciding that he didn't come all this way for nothing.

"Fuck it." He murmured.

He spun around, hopped up the last few steps and walked up to her front door. He was greeted by her holding the door open. They glanced at each other and without taking his eyes off her, he stepped over the threshold, fully immersing himself in her world. He stood in the entry way, gazing around her apartment. It was a large studio. She had it sectioned off into specific segments. To his right there was an island and the kitchen in an L shape. To his left she had her TV against the entrance wall, a coffee table and three seater couch that divided the room in half. He could see that pushed against the back of the couch was an equally long desk that housed a vast array of things. There were two floor to ceiling windows adjacent to her couch and behind that there was one room, with a door half open. From what he could see it was a bathroom. Next to that was what constituted as her bedroom. There she had a queen sized bed and two side tables. To the right of the bed there were two clothes racks and that she was using to separate her bedroom from her office. Behind those racks was a small nook with a desk, a large classroom white board on wheels and a bunch of photography equipment. He didn't have a chance to study the board in full, but from his position he could see a cluster of photos of SAMCRO.

He hated to admit it, but he really didn't know much about her. Seeing her personal space like this made him feel guilty for never taking the time to really get to know her. All he knew was the version of herself that she was in Charming. He took a minute to gaze back at her. She had taken his delay to assess her living situation as a chance to get a drink. She was standing in front of the fridge, pulling out a water jug. She turned back towards him, holding the jug, and accidently nicked the corner of the island. She hissed in pain, grabbing her side, tears welling in her eyes and dropped the jug. Water exploded all around the floor and his legs moved without needing to be told. He was across the kitchen in a split second, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She pulled away from his grasp violently.

"I'm fine." She spat through clenched teeth.

He grabbed her arm again, moving it out of his way, "No. You aren't."

He pulled her arm up, around his shoulder, and used his other to wrap around her middle, careful to avoid the wound. He eased her across the room and sat her down on the edge of the bed. He kneeled down in front of her, his fingers hooked under the hem of her sweater. Their eyes met in a moment of uncertainty. He waited for her approval, not wanting to over step. She gave him a brief nod, a few tears falling away from her face. He rolled up the fabric, pushing the second shirt up with it. She still had the wound covered with a large square of white gauze, tapped down to keep it secure. He peeled back the tape and pushed aside her makeshift bandage.

"Shit, Elle!" He swore, "Why haven't you gotten this checked out?"

He was staring at a very red and very infected gunshot wound. The stitches were almost completely covered in yellow puss and the veins surrounding the wound were all inflamed and beet red.

She gave him a patronizing glare, "Who would I go too? Anywhere I go requires me report the injury." She paused taking a shaking breath in and then spat the next two words at him, " _By law_."

He shook his head at her, "Your well-being is more important than empty threats."

He understood why she was so mad and now it was clear to him just how scared she actually was. She was putting up a very good front. He knew what Clay had said, and he knew that Jackson had stood up for her. Clay was beginning to fly off the rails and this was his last straw in supporting the volatile president. He pulled out his burner and held down the first button. He rocked back onto his heels, standing up and turning away from Elle.

"Yeah." Jackson answered.

"I need Tara's number." He informed the VP.

He could hear the hesitance in Jax's voice, "What's up?"

"It's Elle." He sighed.

"Shit. What happened?" Jackson asked.

"I just need the number." He was in no mood to explain.

Jackson spoke, "Yeah of course. I'll text it to you."

"Thanks, brother." He hung of the phone, waiting for the number. There was a buzz, he opened the message and pressed dial on the new number.

"Tara? It's Happy." He spoke into the receiver.

For the next five minutes he continued to speak with Tara, walking back to Elle and explaining what he saw. Tara swore into her end of the phone and demanded that Elle come to hospital immediately. At this point Elle was staring out her windows, dried tears glazed down her cheeks. This was his fault. If he'd just stayed away from the beginning, she would've moved on by now.

"We're going to St. Thomas." He informed her.

She nodded, still staring out into space. He gave her a minute, letting her process everything and finally she reached out, placing her hands in his and he pulled her up off the bed. She gathered a few things together, mainly toiletries and a change of clothes. When she was finished he looped her bag over his shoulder, and with his arms wrapped around her for support, he guided her out of her apartment. Their descent down the stairs was slow and steady. He was patient in her delayed movements. He steered her through the main lobby, out the front door, and across the street to where her car was parked. He leaned her against the back door, opening the passenger side for her. With her hands gripped in his, she lowered herself into the seat, wincing as she went down. He made sure she was buckled in before shutting the door and rounding to the driver's side. He paused taking in the ramifications of what the club was getting in too. He had voted against it, but that wasn't enough. He never wanted to get involved in drugs and this was exactly why. Innocent bystanders were always the ones that got hurt first. He was going to have a long talk with Jackson once he was sure Elle would heal. He pulled the door open, and slipped into the seat. Elle handed him her car keys and he started the ignition. They began their trek back to the one town she had be trying so desperately to avoid.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

"You should have come sooner." Tara spoke as she applied a second round of antiseptic cream.

I rolled my eyes, "Don't patronize me."

Tara stared up at me, hearing the venom laced in my tone. I glared back, confident in my resolve. I was pissed and I was allowed to be. I didn't need her acting high and mighty on me, not when I knew she was having 'family' issues of her own. She broke the brief staring contest we were having and continued working away at my wound. I'd already been there for a couple of hours and now it was just a matter of redoing the original stitching of the injury. I kept my eyes forward, deliberately keeping them away from the window attached to the room. I knew Happy had stayed, and I knew he was standing in the hall but I wasn't ready to be a part of SAMCRO again, not yet. He was my true link to them, and I needed to reassess my friendships.

Tara stood up, and grabbed a clean square of gauze off her tray. She taped me into a new bandage, making sure the laceration had enough room to breathe and heal properly this time. She helped me roll my shirt down when we heard a knock on the window. We both turned, finding a battered Gemma peering through. Tara grabbed my hand, helping me down off the bed. The doorknob turned and before Gemma entered the room, Tara pulled me forward into an embrace.

Her arms squeezed around my upper body and she whispered, "Get out while you still can."

"Baby girl?" Gemma's voice came from behind her and she let go.

She backed away, letting Gemma come around and fuss over me. I stared after Tara. She was hurting, something was wrong. There was something strange happening; not just the typical mother-in-law and daughter-in-law butting of heads. I focussed on Gem as she ran her hands over my arms, in a mothering way. I backed away, stilling her movements and glared at the shining black eye she was sporting.

"What happened?" I inquired.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

He used the ride back to Charming as the much needed break he desperately wanted. When he learnt about Clay's reaction to Elle's injury he'd been pissed but that was his President. He wasn't in a position to challenge the man, not after all he'd done for him. Jax took the time to inform him that he'd talked some sense into his step-father, and that helped with soothing his frayed trust in the man but the club had been driving down a steep hill from that point on. Clay attacked Gemma and one of the new patches stole a brick of cocaine. It was a bad idea from the beginning, getting involved with muling drugs for Parada and his cartel. Jackson was making moves to leave and he could see the strain it was causing in Clay. The two of them were at odds, fighting for the upper hand and dividing the club with their internal power struggle.

Thanks to Gemma's meddling personality, Elle now knew of what happened between her and Clay. In the month she spent away from Charming things had gone to complete shit and he was more than happy to leave her in Berkeley to keep her safe from their turmoil. After Gemma stormed her room in the hospital, she didn't take long to find him and pull him aside. She was still terrified of them – him. She told him she wanted to go home and he complied, packing her back into her car and driving back to San Francisco in complete silence. When they'd gotten back, he parked her car and watched as she let herself back into her apartment. She thanked him but maintained a safe distance, never touching him. He left her to herself after that, getting on his Harley and driving back to Charming.

When Jackson had approached him earlier that week to secure his vote for President he'd been wary. Today changed that. He was in full support of a change in the club. He would always be who he was, but that didn't mean that their families deserved to be targeted. Family was where he drew the line. If Jax was going to steer the club in a new direction he'd be there to stand at his side in support. Now that he was back in the city limits, his next mission was to locate Jax and confirm with his brother that he had his backing.

When he pulled into TM, the lot was essentially empty but he found both Chibs and Kozik standing by. He'd been quiet about bringing Elle back into town, knowing that she wasn't wholly comfortable by being back. He hadn't tried to force her into anything she was uncomfortable with, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to tell those who cared for her what her situation was. Thankfully, both of his brothers were fiercely loyal, and maintained their silence on the matter. He knew they both wanted to visit the hospital but understood Elle's trepidation to the club.

There was only one person he'd been unable to reach and that was Lyla. He'd given her a call but was sent straight through to voicemail. He knew that her and Opie were having troubles but that was neither here nor there. A brother never meddled in another brother's love life. He walked up to the table, where Kozik and Chibs were sitting with a couple of beers. Chibs popped off the cap to a fresh bottle and handed it to him.

"How's our girl?" Chibs asked.

Hap nodded, "Better. She'll heal properly this time. It just needed to be cleaned up."

Kozik sighed in relief and sank down onto the bench. The three of them remaining in silence, wondering the same thing.

"Think she'll ever come back around?" Kozik finally spoke.

Chibs shook his head, "If she's the smart girl we all know… She'll run for the hills."

Happy stared at the beer in his hand, a bit of head floating above the liquid. He agreed. She was a smart woman, she wasn't going to come back to a criminal like him. He was just a phase in her life. He was set in his ways, but she had far to go. He didn't need to be holding her back.

"Either of you seen Jackson?" He inquired, ignoring Chibs' comment.

Kozik shook his head, "Last I heard, him and Tara were getting ready for their trip up to Oregon."

Hap lifted the spout to his mouth and drained the rest of the brown liquid. He slammed the bottle down on the table.

"If either of you see Lyla, let her know how Elle's doing." He turned away from his brothers, and straddled his bike. He needed to get to Jackson before he left for the weekend.


	24. Do You Remember When We Met?

**A/N: You all knew this was coming, it happened in the show too quick for my liking and I've tried to mimic that urgency in this chapter. Kozik will always have a special place in my heart.**

 **Playlist:** _Sea of Love – Cat Power_

 **Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA.**

* * *

I was sitting cross legged in my desk chair, chewing on a straw from my iced coffee, sorting through the RAW images I hadn't had a chance to go through yet. My phone began buzzing, bouncing across the wood of my desk. I glanced down at the caller ID and hit the ignore button. Gemma was being persistent. This was the fourth call in the last twenty minutes from her. She was refusing to leave a voicemail and it was getting on my nerves. I flipped the phone over and attempted to concentrate on the task at hand. A few minutes passed while I stared at the same image and my phone started vibrating again. I sighed in frustration and snatched it up off the desk.

"Yes Gemma? What's so important that you can't take a hint?" I seethed.

"Baby?" Her voice came through frantic.

My shoulders slumped, immediately flooded by guilt. She sounded distressed and I was being a bitch.

"What's going on?" I muttered. There was a pause and I heard the sound of sniffling. "Gemma? What's happened?"

I immediately assumed the worst. I hadn't heard from Happy in a couple of weeks. Not since I dismissed him after bringing me to the hospital. I knew he was still making his daily trips to check up on me. The sound of a Harley was unmistakable but he'd never tried to come near me again.

"Baby, you need to come back." She cried into the phone.

I shook my head, "I'm not ready for that Gem. Tell me what's going on."

"It's Kozik. He's… He's been…." She stuttered, "Kozik is gone."

"What?" I furrowed my brow, unsure that I understood what she meant.

"Kozik was blown up today. He didn't make it." She explained.

My body froze, tears spilling over and I dropped the phone. It fell away from my hand, tumbling down to the ground, bouncing off the desk and then hitting the ground with a loud crack. I sank to the ground, slipping from my chair and the sobs wracked through my body. This was too much. My body began to shut down while I continued to weep. In some ways, this news was worse than what I assumed. Kozik was my friend, no matter how many times I turned him down. He was always there, always ready to smile. Calling me by that stupid nickname, getting everyone else on the bandwagon.

In the background I heard the crackled voice of Gemma calling out for me, but I ignored her pleas, caught up in my own grief. I pulled my knees to my chest, and laid my head against the hardwood flooring. I should have gone back. I should have forgiven them for what happened. I shouldn't have avoided Charming. Now I would never see my friend again. This wasn't real, this wasn't happening. I was going to wake up and this would all be a dream. When I woke up from this nightmare, I would have never been shot, I would have never ditched Charming and Kozik would have never died. _Blown up!_ How did someone get blown up in a fucking backwoods shit town? I cried out in anguish. Why was this happening? What had I done wrong to deserve to be punished like this?

"Kozik." I whimpered, wishing that if I said his name out loud would make this all a hallucination.

I was never going to see that megawatt smile, that stupid spiked blonde hair and hear that stupid voice call that stupid nickname.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

Gemma raced across the compound and into the clubhouse. In a frantic search she tried to locate Happy but he was nowhere to be found. After they'd gotten back from losing Kozik, he'd taken off and had been gone for hours. All she could see were crow eaters and grieving men. Who was Elle the closest with besides Happy and Kozik? Her eyes scanned the room and she spotted Chibs sitting at the end of the bar, alone with a bottle of Jack in his hand.

"Chibs!" She called and he glanced up. "Where's Happy?"

He shrugged, starring down at the bottle in his hand. When he looked up at the matriarch he saw the fear and tears laced in her eyes. He tilted his head in question.

"I called Elle." Gemma admitted.

His eyes widened in distress, realizing that no one was there to comfort the girl, "Is she ok?"

Gemma's eyes began to water, "I don't know. I heard a crash and her sobbing. I don't know what happened."

Chibs shot up, and pulled his keys out of his pocket, "If Happy comes back, tell him I went to check on her."

He sprinted outside with Gemma hot on his heels. He straddled his bike and turned the throttle, revving the engine.

He backed away and heard Gemma yell over the roar, "Tell her that we love her."

He gave a brief nod before tearing out of the compound, making his way to Berkeley. He had absolutely no idea where he was going but he'd worry about that once he hit the city limits. Right now, comforting Elle was the only thing on his mind.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

When he passed the sign for the University on the highway, he veered off, slowing down to a stop at the light. He knew where she went to school. He could start from there. As he navigated the streets towards the university's main building, he caught sight of a familiar Harley, parked on a side street. He rolled towards it, and found the man that had disappeared as soon as they had come back from retaliation. He pulled up next to his brother and killed the engine on his motorcycle. He climbed off and stood next to Happy. He gazed around his brother and saw the circle of cigarette butts on the ground around his feet. This was clearly where he'd gone too and had been standing here staring at the building across the street. Happy caught his eye questions written all over his face.

"Gemma called her." Chibs answered the unasked question.

Happy nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the windows on the second floor.

"I'm going to go check on her." Chibs mentioned, waiting for Happy's seal of approval.

Happy gave another nod, "Second floor, last apartment on the left."

Chibs took a deep breath understanding the situation his brother was battling. He needed the comfort of the woman he loved, but knew she wasn't equipped to handle even more drama from their club. Chibs crossed the street and found the lobby doors unlocked. He followed the hallway to the back stairwell and ascended the steps. He peered around, finding a door at the end of the hall, at the front of the building. He knocked on the heavy door, listening for any movement on the other side. He waited for a minute before knocking again. He heard muffled voice, but couldn't make out the words. He reached for the handle and turned, pushing the door open. The apartment quiet but he could hear breathing coming from the other side of the kitchen. He moved around the island and found Elle curled up into a ball, lying next to her desk, on the floor. He made his way over to her, crouching down next to her head. He waited to see if she'd look at him but she remained steady. Her gaze was fixated on an item unknown to him.

"That doesn't look very comfortable." He half joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

She continued to stare off into the distance, "Leave me alone."

He cringed at the hoarse voice that came from her. She'd done a lot of crying in the time it took him to get here. He sighed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Go away." She mumbled.

"Elle." He cautioned her with authority.

She acknowledged him finally, her eyes watery as they looked at him. Her bottom lip quivered unconsciously and he opened his arms up for her.

"Come here." He offered.

She crawled up towards him as he settled down to a sitting position, allowing her to curl into his side. She buried her head in his chest, another wave of weeping starting. Chibs held on to her channeling the same level of sorrow.

Together, they clung to one another, grieving the loss of their friend. Chibs ran his hand over the same spot in her hair, more for his comfort than hers. After a while, Elle's crying ceased, turning to subtle sniffles.

"Why does this keep happening to me?" She murmured, "Am I bad person?"

Chibs pulled her tighter towards him, "Shush lass, there's nothing wrong with you. This is on us."

The two of them remained quiet, while the nature of Chibs' word set in. They were a dangerous group of men, conducting business with other hazardous men. It just was. He could tell that Elle understood that, but this level on grief caused everyone to question their own consciences.

"Come on luv. Kozik wouldn't want us to wallow like this." He pulled her to a standing position but her shoulders remained slumped. He gripped both hands on her shoulders, keeping eye contact, "Do you need anything?"

She shook her head, "No." Next thing he knew, she had wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed, "Thank you for coming."

He smiled, a tear in his eye, "I'll always be here for you."

She nodded into his arms, jostling the two of them. He backed away, making his way back to the door. She followed him, holding on to the opened door as he stood in the entry way. He reached out one hand, rested it against the back of her head and pulled her close to him.

He pressed a chaste kiss onto her forehead and mumbled Gemma's words, "We love you, Elle. You can count on that."

She closed her eyes, nodding once in acknowledgement. He knew it was hard to accept the death of a brother. This was going to be something that rained over the club for a while. He hoped that something positive came from the turn of events; he hoped that Elle would come back around. Not only for Happy, but for everyone else. He waved a farewell and made his way to the stairwell, Elle watching the entire way until he disappeared down the steps.

When he reached the other side of the street, Happy still hadn't moved. He clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, pulling him into a passing embrace. When they moved away from one another her straddled his bike, snapping his helmet on.

"She needs you as much as you need her." He spoke, trusting that his words would ingrain in Happy and he'd finally make his way into her arms.

Happy glanced at his brother, understanding clear in his eyes. Chibs turned his engine on and pulled away, leaving his brother to make the decision of a lifetime.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

I stood in the kitchen, staring at all the ingredients I needed to keep myself busy. If there was one thing I inherited from my mother, it was that I baked when I was upset. Somehow it helped me work through everything that was bothering me. I wasn't sure it would work this time, but I had to give it a try. As a tribute to my fallen friend, I decided to make special brownies. He was an extraordinary man, and this was the only way I could think to honour him. I dove into the process of food preparation, my entire mind blank, except for the detailed instructions I had memorized.

It didn't take long for the brownies to be mixed and poured into the pan. I set the time for the appropriate amount of time then turned the light in the oven on, set the pan in and posted myself on the floor, directly in front of the appliance. I sat there, watching the discreet raising of the mixture. I found myself in a haze, completely at ease. No thoughts of death, guns or violence as I stared at the brownies baking.

The timer buzzed, pulling me from my reverie and I blinked, bringing myself back to earth. I stood up and turned the oven off. I shoved my hands into the oven mitts, ready to open the appliance door when I heard a soft knock on my door. I pulled my door open and was greeted by a down trodden Happy. He stood there, his eyes filled with anguish. I could see the stress in his features as he clenched his teeth together, causing a twitch in his jawline. Without a second thought I threw myself at him, encasing him in my arms. He left out a sigh of relief. He'd clearly been debating whether or not to come to me. His arms inched around me and he locked them in a tight hold. I was glad he chose too. I pulled backwards taking one of his hands in my mitt covered one and tugged him inside. I shut the door behind us and guided him to the couch. I pushed him down, forcing him to relax. He stared at me, the words in his mouth silent. I knew what he was trying to communicate. He wanted – no needed – a distraction, and I was his best option. If there was anything I could do, I could take his mind off the club. I was a far cry from someone associated with the club, especially nowadays.

"Thirsty?" I asked, offering him the remote to the TV.

He stared at the plastic item in his hand, and I took his silence as confirmation. I headed back into the kitchen, busying myself with taking the brownies out and then tossing the mitts down on the counter. I opened the fridge, hoping that I still some kind of beers in there. I lucked out finding a few stragglers in the back. I pulled one out, popped off the cap and made my way back to Happy. I set the beer down in front of him. He nodded, thanking me for the drink and I turned away, off to cut the brownies. I pulled out a serving plate, and began portioning off the brownies. I thought back to how long it'd been since I'd seen Happy, and how selfish I was being by staying away. I was never going to see Kozik again and all because I was too scared to go back. I sniffed as a few tears spilt over and I wiped them away. Shit. I didn't want Happy to see me like this. I'd already been enough of a mess lately, he didn't need the responsibility of consoling me right now. I should be the one caring for him. He came to me seeking solace. As much as my heart was broken, his was in more need of repair than mine. I blinked away the tears watering my vision. I felt his calloused fingers catch my wrist and I jumped.

"Elle?" His tone graveled by grief.

I shook my head, closing my eyes, "I'm fine. It's ok."

 _How long had he been standing there?_ I hadn't even heard him move. He let go of my wrist, his arms sliding along both of mine and his arms joined together, wrapped around my front. The front of his body lined against my back. He leaned his forehead against the back of head. I reached up, resting my hands on his arms encased around me. We stood together, our embrace comforting the other. Finally, I lifted his hands, and turned to face him. I gave him a light kiss before breaking away and grabbing the nearest bottle of wine, and a glass. He waited until I'd poured myself a decent amount and then together we went back to the couch. He picked up the remote, flipping through the channels while I curled my feet underneath me and leaned into his side. He draped his arm over the back of the couch, behind my shoulders and settled on some TLC show. We cuddled together, thankful for the tiny comfort we could share together.

About a half hour later, I found myself fully engrossed in the stupid TV show and was jostled when Happy stood up, taking both my emptied glass and his bottle into the kitchen. I glanced at him quickly before turning my head back to the TV. I heard the fridge open, the familiar release of condensed air and then the pouring of a liquid. I heard as his feet trudged back to where I was seated.

"These what I think they are?" He asked, setting down a full glass of wine in front of me.

In his other hand he was holding the plate of brownies I'd forgotten all about.

I grinned, "If you're thinking pot brownies… then yes, you're right."

In a strange change of feeling, he smiled a full smile showing all his teeth. He placed the plate down grabbing two brownies, one for me and one for him. I gingerly took the sweet from him, put off by the complete joy on his face. He ate half his brownie in one bite. I laughed, his enthusiasm getting the better of me. I took a few nibbles of mine, alternating with sips of wine. Happy leaned back into the cushions, pushed off his boots and crossed his ankles on the table in front of him. I raised an eyebrow at his feet on my table and he smirked, shrugging. I rolled my eyes at his childish behaviour. When he was in a good mood it was like spending time with an overgrown toddler.

It didn't take long for the impact of the brownie to hit the both of us. I became giddy and over expressive, while he became talkative. Bored with the show we'd been watching, Happy started flipping through the channels mumbling about how there wasn't anything to watch. I argued with him that he wasn't giving any of the shows enough time to form an educated decision. Oh and God forbid he stop at a channel with a commercial playing. He wouldn't even pause, he'd just grumble and change it immediately to something else. We argued back and forth over what to watch before settling on the movie network, playing the ever appeasing Die Hard. Nonchalantly Happy spread his arms out along the back of the couch. I took the gesture as a sign and scooted forward, closer to him. With my feet still looped underneath me, I bowed into the crook of Happy's body and my couch. His outstretched arm curved around my upper half, his hand finding a resting place on my hip. His other arm was still stretched out across the back of the cushions. Sometime soon after that, from the mixture of alcohol and marijuana, we both fell asleep.

When I startled awake, I found myself staring at the last few seconds of the end credits in the movie. I rubbed my eyes, realizing that the only reason why I'd woken up was because there was an incessant buzzing coming from Happy. I nudged him with my shoulder and he grunted, waking up.

"Your phone." I mumbled before snuggling back into his warm chest.

He jostled around for a minute, pulling the burner out of his pocket and flipping it open.

"Yeah." He grumbled, clearly unimpressed about being woken up.

With my cheek against his chest I felt, more than heard, the rumble of his voice. I closed my eyes, reveling in being this close to Happy. I missed this. If I learned anything from this experience, it was that life was short. I shouldn't be focusing on my anger. I needed to spend more time with him, not push him away. I felt the flick of his phone as he shut it.

"Church?" I muttered.

"No." he answered.

Oh. That was odd, normally whenever he got a call to his burner he'd be gone in a flash. All the Sons were like that. A call on the burner was sacred. I peered up at him to find him gazing at me, sleep clouding his eyes. I grinned, snuggling down even closer to him.

"Good." I breathed.

I felt the tired rumble flow through his body as he chuckled at my reaction. I lightly patted him on his arm, "Shush. I'm trying to sleep."

I didn't need to see his face to know that for the second time that day, Happy was donning a smile. His arms wrapped around me, re-positioning my head in his lap, allowing me to stretch out across the sofa. He tugged the throw off the back of the cushions and draped it over my body. I mumbled a thank you before settling in, curling my body closer. I fell back to sleep with the feel of his fingers brushing through my hair at my temple.


	25. Maybe On the Dark Side

**A/N: This is not the end... not yet!**

 **Playlist:** _Be Together (feat. Wild Belle) - Major Lazer_

 **Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA**

* * *

Tara laid her hand across Jax's shoulder, taking a stance for her man and his club. The solidarity between the man and his woman was more than most could ever hope for. Happy sensed the true dedication to each other that they had. He was proud that his President had someone who was an equal counterpart; a woman who wouldn't break under the pressure.

He sat in his corner seat, surveying the damage of their previous President. With Jax at the helm, it was sure to change, and hopefully for the better. Jackson was a man on a mission, a man they all had complete confidence in. As the men got up and filed into the bar area, he watched the subtle exchange between the President and his Old Lady. The expression shared between them was one that hit home for him. He'd seen the face of lost dreams, one too many times. In his line of work, it was an occurring expression he encountered. That was exactly what he witnessed here tonight, Tara giving up. It was clear that with the injury to her hand, she had a higher rate of never working again, than actually being able to operate. The club had seen the turmoil between Jax and Tara, watching how much Tara had given up to stay standing beside her man. It seemed to be the curse of the club. Every woman who become connected to them, slowly lost their way, only knowing how to be an old lady. That wasn't something he wanted to see happen to Elle. She was still young, she still had her whole life ahead of her. He wasn't going to let her fade away in Charming, not with the potential she had.

He made his way into the main room, joining his brothers in a muted celebration. He accepted a beer from a crow eater and planted himself on a stool. He wasn't in the mood for celebrating. He remained at the bar alone, keeping away from the ruckus of his brothers. He pounded down beer after beer, losing track of how much he'd had to drink and the time of night it was.

"Doing alright, brother?" Jax clapped him on the shoulder and took a seat in the stool next to him.

He grunted, unsure if he could speak in coherent sentences at the moment.

Jax held up his burner, "Elle called. She's finished her project."

He nodded, staring intently at the phone in Jackson's hand.

"Said she might drop by tomorrow, give me a copy of her work." He continued.

At the mention of Elle coming back to Charming, Happy leaned back and narrowed his eyes. Jackson met his gaze one eyebrow raised.

"She shouldn't come here." Was his only response.

He pushed off the bar, grabbed the nearest crow eater and dragged her to his room, while she chattered happily in his ear.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

I pulled into TM around lunch time. This was my first visit back to Charming in two months and the first time being back since my injury and Kozik's death. I called Jax last night to let him know I was going to bring a copy of the finalized project, for them to keep. As I parked my car, my heart was thudded in my chest. I gave myself a silent pep talk, knowing that I wasn't in any immediate danger, but I couldn't help scanning the compound, making sure there were no lurking cars hanging around. Better safe than sorry was my new motto. I hauled the black portfolio out of my bag and stepped out of my shelter. I gazed around the parking lot, noticing all the bikes lined up neatly. In the middle of them I spotted the familiar Harley. It was the only one I'd ever been able to pinpoint. I could spot Happy's minimal style from a mile away. I knew from Jax that all the boys were around, having spent the night partying for his vote into the President's patch. None of them were in a position to drive home. I was using their hangovers to my advantage, gaining the opportunity to surprise Happy. He'd been spending all his time coming to Berkeley lately, and I knew it was time to finally get over my aversion to this small town. I made my way over to the clubhouse just as the doors opened. All the boys were filing out greeting the sunshine with swearing and grumbled protests. I greeted Jax with a smile and he inclined his head towards me in hello.

"Ellie girl!" Chibs called.

I wrapped one arm around the Scot, "Hey Chibbie."

Since Chibs had come to comfort me after Kozik's passing, I'd grown to love the man exceptionally more. What was a tentative friendship had turned into a full blown sibling bond. Chibs seemed genuinely pleased to see me and it helped in calming my internal freak out. I gazed around finding that Happy had joined everyone, standing near the doors, deep in conversation with Jackson. He hadn't noticed me yet when but when Tig called out for me, and walked over to where I was standing, Happy turned at the sound of my name. He stared at me for a moment before he came over, grabbing my hand and tugging me away from Chibs. I stumbled after him, dropping the portfolio on the floor behind me. He very nearly dragged me through the door and into the clubhouse. Once inside I tried to loosen my hand from his but he wasn't having it. His grip tightened and he pulled me along. _Why was he being so rough? What was his problem?_ All my insecurities about Charming, Happy, the Sons of Anarchy and myself surged to the surface and panic overwhelmed me. My breathing became shallow and I had to yank hard on my arm for Happy to slow down.

"Let go." I choked for air.

Happy glanced back and dropped my hand immediately. I held my arm to my chest, cradling it and rubbing where his fingers had left a red mark. He closed his eyes, seemingly disappointed in himself for forgetting my plights and opened the door to his dorm room. I concentrated on my breathing, leveling out my breaths to calm, even inhales. He held the door open for me, and I inched around him. I still didn't understand his haste to get me alone. All I could fathom was that something important was discussed last night. That could be the only logical explanation for his complete lack of compassion when it came to my fragile state. Once we were both inside he shut the door behind us. I turned to face him, lowering myself onto the edge of his bed, while he remained standing leaning against one of the dressers.

"What's going on Happy?" I demanded as I sat down.

This was one of those strange moments were Happy wasn't the completely guarded man he was around other people. There was genuine emotion shining in his eyes. He was conflicted; both anger and sorrow flowing through his expression.

My eyebrows creased in confusion, "Is everything alright?"

"When were you going to tell me?" He countered.

I shook my head, not understanding, "Tell you what?"

"Fuck Elle! Don't play dumb with me." He stomped his foot down, frustration clear across his face.

I jumped up startled at his flip in mood, "What the fuck Happy? I don't know what you're talking about!" My breathing began to speed up again, and I fought with the tears threatening to spill over. He was scaring me.

He stalked towards me so that we were inches apart, "When were you going to tell me you finished?"

"Oh," I breathed, I relaxed minutely, although the tension in my body continued to hold me rigid, "I didn't realize it was that important to you."

"You didn't think it was important?!" He nearly shouted.

I leaned away from him, surprised with his anger, "Why are you so mad? I finished my project. What's the big deal? Jackson obviously told you. I haven't even been here a full five minutes yet. Why are you jumping down my throat?"

His anger dissipated, backing away and sunk down in to the chair across from the bed. Both his elbows rested on either knee, his head hung low, barely kept up by his hands. I approached him with caution, unsure of what emotion I'd be greeted with next. I knelt down in front of him, either hand wrapped around the handles of the chair.

"Why is this bothering you?" I pleaded, "Tell me what the problem is."

There was silence for a full minute while he refused to look up, still staring down at the floor. His mood swings were going to give me whiplash. I was starting to understand why he kept himself so guarded. He had problems trying to keep himself in check, unable to properly express his feeling properly.

"When are you leaving?" He finally asked.

"What? Why do you think I'm leaving?" I frowned.

He looked up at me, our gazes on even ground. I was confused. He wasn't making any sense at all.

"Why would I be leaving?" I reiterated.

He sighed, "You finished your project. It's done."

I narrowed my eyes, his thought process clicking with mine, "That's it? You thought I'd just pack up and leave as soon as I finished?" I shot back up, stomping away from him and then turned to shout, "Are you really that dense?"

He remained silent, letting me stew in my anger. Did he really expect me to cut and run once I was finished the piece? Did he think I would just forget _everything_ we went through? In the short year I'd been with them – _him_ – I'd grown to care for these boys. They were a second family to me. I paced back and forth, baffled that he thought I was going to abandon them. I was fucking shot and still managed to make it back. Why would I cower away now?

I stopped, facing him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"What about your career?" He questioned.

I shrugged, "What about it? I can be a journalist from here in California."

"No." He shook his head.

"What do you mean no?" I shrilled. Clearly he'd given this quite some thought.

He stood, "I'm not letting you throw your life away for me."

I laughed with a bitterness, "You can't tell me what to do."

"Maybe not but I can make you leave." He threatened.

I ground my teeth together, "No you can't."

He walked towards the door, ripping it open and gesturing for me to leave.

I snorted, dropping down onto his bed, my arms crossed, "Ten seconds ago you didn't want me to leave, now you're deliberately trying to make me? Make up your fucking mind."

"Ten seconds ago I thought you were making the right decision by leaving. Now you're just being a stubborn bitch." He yelled.

"Fuck you! Calling me names isn't going to suddenly make me love you any less." I screamed back.

I inhaled sharply, realizing what I'd said. I hadn't even fully acknowledged that I loved him to myself, now I was blurting it out unintentionally. Our devotion to one another was obvious, but there still hadn't been any kind of confirmation how much we actually cared for one another. He gazed, leaving a pregnant pause between the two of us.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"I-I… I love you, Happy." I restated. I slumped down with the weight of my confession, my head hanging, "I thought you'd have figured it out by now."

I loved the man, damn it. It probably the smartest decision on my part but you can't help who you love. He stood motionless, in the doorway, staring at me silent as the grave. I chanced a glance at him. As my eyes met his, I watched his default shield raise. Blocking any and all emotion from his body – _from me_. I shook my head with vigor, pissed that he was closing himself off. The tears I tried to hide earlier came leaking out in full force.

I stood, stomping one foot in petulance, "Don't you dare! Don't you dare shut me out!"

He was hiding from me – _from us_ – turning himself off, becoming the all feared killer.

"Admit it!" I whispered, "You love me back. Just admit it."

A sickening smirk spread across his face, "You were nothing but an OK lay. How else would we guarantee you'd give us a positive stance in your stupid little project?"

I clenched my teeth together, my face twitching with fury. He was pushing me away, using my insecurities as his defence mechanism. I scrunched my nose up with distaste.

"That's not going to work. I know you're lying." I hissed.

He shrugged, "Whatever helps you sleep at night. The club needed you to fall in line. You didn't think I had a genuine interest in you, did you? Not with all these crow eaters around. Why work for something when I get it for free whenever I want?"

I screamed in utter fury, "STOP IT! Shut up!"

In a flash I was standing in front of him. I lifted my right hand, striking him hard across the cheek. His head shot sideways with the force of my palm. He growled at me, his hand twisting around my wrist and ripping it away from him. I bared my teeth, taking the brunt of his harsh grip on my wrist. I wasn't going to let him get away with this. He was trying to make me run away, he wanted me to overreact. I yanked my hand back from him, rubbing away the sting.

I growled, "Lying to me isn't going to make me leave."

"Who's lying?" He said rhetorically, "You know deep down it's the truth. It's been the plan since day one."

My nostrils flared and I shoved him hard, both my hands against his chest. He stumbled backwards into the door, slamming it into the wall, the hinges creaking from pressure. I fell with him, using my fists to push up off of him. Without delay I kept my fists curled and began pounding into him, my fists punching against the worn leather of his cut.

"Liar!" I screamed as I hit him.

From behind us, a toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened. We both spun at the interruption.

The crow eater backed away, her hands up in surrender, "Sorry. Pretend I'm not here."

I turned back to him, my face screwed up in betrayal. With the evidence of his disloyalty, the force of his words wormed their way into my thoughts, confirming all of my insecurities. I should've known. I knew it was going to come to an end. This is what he wanted. He wanted to play on my anxieties, using them to his advantage. I fought with myself, trying to block out all self-doubt, but everything he'd said made sense. Us as a couple never really made any sense, and now it was all clear. It was a game, a game to keep them me in their good graces. _Why did I let myself get caught up?_ I should've heeded my own advice and kept a safe distance from them all, right from the beginning. My fists stilled in their constant berating and I broke down, weeping. For a minute, I forgot where I was, and laid my forehead against his chest, letting it all out. He let me cry into him, before grabbing my upper arms and attempting to push me off of him. At his touch, I recoiled.

I hissed, "Don't you dare touch me."

I spun on my heel tearing out of his room. I sped through the clubhouse, barely registering all the faces that were standing at the bar. They must have followed us in after Happy dragged me through. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I registered that they'd all been witnesses to our 'break-up'. It felt like déjà vu as I ran past them. This wasn't the first time I fled from this place. Each time had to do directly with the same person and each time I'd been overwhelmed with insecurities. The first time I slept with him, after getting shot and now, for the final time, as I had my heart ripped from my chest.

I registered the grief on a few of the men's faces but chalked it up to them being concerned for their _brother_. None of them cared for me. I wasn't even a blip on their radar. I shouldered the clubhouse door open and raced to my car. I shot out of the compound my tires squealing in protest at my speed. I didn't even bother glancing back. There wasn't any point. He'd made it clear I was nothing to him, that our entire relationship was a ruse. I allowed myself the chance to cry it out, the tears blurring my vision as I sped down the streets of this backwoods hick town. Once I hit the open road, I raced back to San Francisco, far enough away to keep them out of my life. It was easy to lose their memory in a city full of people. The Sons of Anarchy no longer meant anything to me. They were a simple project, aiding me in my graduation. I had a bright future ahead of me and none of it included a man named Happy. He was just a figment of my imagination, someone I dreamed up. I'd wake up tomorrow, realizing this entire relationship was a dream… I just knew it.


	26. Weep Not for the Memories

**A/N: I had a hard time writing this chapter because of my song choices. I Will Remember You always hits me hard and I've become so invested in these two that the song holds that much more meaning for me now.** ** _I directly copied the lyrics from this song into the note at the end._**

 **If there are any grammatical or spelling errors, I apologize. I can no longer read this chapter, it's too much.**

 **Guys I straight up bawled while writing this chapter…**

 **Playlist:** _House of Rising Sun – White Buffalo, Whole Again – Atomic Kitten & I Will Remember You – Sarah McLachlan_

 **Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA**

* * *

"Elle Clarke!"

I inhaled deeply and stood. An eruption of applause broke out around me. On top of graduating I was being honoured today for my exceptional journalism and photography. I poured my heart and soul into the project I was being honoured for. It was with a heavy heart and bittersweet memories that I ascended the steps onto the stage. I made it far in my short life, experienced more than I ever thought I would in my entire life. I was met by the Dean at the podium, who handed me my plaque. We shook hands and the photographer standing at the edge of the stage called up to us, asking for a full frontal shot. We turned towards him, forcing bright smiles onto our faces.

The Dean pulled me into a brief embrace, "Congratulations Elle. You're going to go far."

I nodded, holding back tears. His words reminded me of how much I sacrificed in order to get this project completed. I made my way past the Dean, being intercepted by each of my professors as I walked along. Each giving me parting words of wisdom that I promptly forgot. When I reached the other end of the stage, a plaque and diploma in hand, I spared a glance out at my classmates. This would be the last time I would be surrounded by like-minded people. This was an end to an era. I was off to pursue my dreams. I stood on the top step, preparing to descend back into the madness of graduating classmates when my eye was caught by an obnoxious glare. I raised a hand to block the light from blinding me. From under my hand, I searched for the culprit, scanning the back of the crowd. My heart palpitated as I noticed a familiar shaved head, standing at the back of the crowd. I glanced down, rushing down the few steps left and gazed back up, scanning for him. I sped past my fellow classmates as they all cheered and threw their hats in the air. I shouldered my way around a few more people, racing to the back of the crowd, towards the spot where I'd seen him. In my haste I forgot all my manners, shoving those closest to me aside with a meek apology as I went. The crowd dispersed the further back I went until I was finally in an empty patch. I skid to a stop, panting. I spun in a circle, searching for any sign of him. It couldn't have just been my imagination. I saw him. He was just here. Hysteria began to take over as I continued spinning from left to right, desperately searching for the man who still had my heart. Tears spilled out, cascading down my cheeks. I wiped at them with fury, angry at myself for getting worked up. It must have been a trick of the eye. He was never here. I dreamt up the entire scenario.

"Shit." I whispered to myself, stomping one foot in childish resentment.

I was disappointed in myself. He'd disappeared from my life, becoming a shadow of something I'd imagined for myself. All I had left were the pictures that I'd taken, and even those were beginning to seem fabricated.

"Clarke!" Someone yelled from behind me.

I spun around finding my trusty study group waving me over. I took one last glance around hoping that I was wrong, and he really had been here. I sighed, pulling my hat down, and rubbing down the few stray hairs I had. I was still hung up on a man who never truly cared for me. My heart pulled at the thought of him and I heaved in a breath, shutting my eyes to stop the tears. I had real friends waiting for me, ones that hadn't ever pretended to be something they weren't. I plastered a fake smile on my face and joined the rest of my class in celebration.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

He stood at the edge of the crowd, eyes glued to the stage when her name was called. The entire throng of students flew into outrageous cheers as she set foot near the podium. She accepted her award, being honoured as the top in her class. He'd never met anyone in his life who was as intelligent as her. He knew that she had big things in her future. He was right in forcing her away, making her believe he never loved her. All he would have done was hold her back. The club had endangered her life enough for ten lifetimes. This was his final goodbye. He'd stop checking up on her after today. She needed to move on. She was better off without him. He'd never put her in any danger again. He turned from his spot in the back, trudging past the hyper parents, siblings and family members.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

The sun had set about three hours ago and I was only now stumbling through the lobby doors of my building. I giggled the entire way up the stairs, still giddy from the celebrations. I laid my forehead against my door, trying to focus on the lock, missing three times before finally hitting home. I stuck my tongue out, biting down in concentration. I turned the lock, opening the door tripping through and catching myself on the island. I kicked the door shut behind me and tossed my keys over my shoulder. First things first, I needed a shower. I stripped out of my clothes, leaving them in heaps as I walked through my apartment in nothing by my underwear. It was finished. I was a graduate, I had my Masters. I undid my bra, tossing it in the general direction of my bed, when an unknown item caught my eye. There in the middle of my bed was ring sized box. I narrowed my eyes at it, wary of the surprise. There was only one person in my life who was a renowned criminal, capable of breaking and entering with such ease. Based on the shit job of the bow fastened around it, I could assume my assumptions were correct. I turned my back on whatever was in that box and hopped into the shower.

I turned the faucet, heating up the temperature to almost scalding. I needed to sear his memory from my mind. _Who did he think he was coming into my apartment uninvited?_ I shook my head, trying to dislodge all thoughts of him. I poured a dollop of shampoo into my hand, lathering it through my hair, concentrating intently on the flowery scent. I bent my head back, allowing the rush of water rinse the soap out of my hair. I picked up my exfoliator, lathering it with soap and began washing away the sweat and grime from my long day. I closed my eyes as I circled the loofa around my face and the image of the small present scorched into my minds eyes.

My eyes snapped open and I ripped the curtain away. While my body dripped a mixture of soap and water all over my floor, I stomped out of the bathroom and across to my bed. I swiped up the box and tore the top off. In my haste, I tipped it, and a small card of paper slipping out, floating to the floor. I stared at the contents of the box, staggered. I reached in, pinching the silver chain and pulled out the gift. There, hanging from the bottom of the chain, was Happy's Reaper ring. His most prized piece of jewellery. I curled my fingers in a fist around the ring, squeezing until the metal was on the verge of breaking the skin. I glanced down, remembering there was a piece of paper and crouched down, picking up and gingerly turning it over. In his boyish writing, his note read:

 _"Make me proud."_

I gulped, my nostrils flaring and tears of anger welling. I screamed out in anguish and whipped the chain across my apartment, simultaneously crushing the box in my other hand. I reveled in the sound of his metal ring hit the floor with a resounding crack. I covered my eyes with my hands and sank down into a pile in the middle of my floor. The wetness continued to pour out of my eyes at an uncontrollable rate. How dare he? How dare he push me away and then leave a token of affection in my midst. A token that he held dear to him.

"I hate you!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I hung my head whispering into the emptiness that had become my life, "I hate you… I _hate_ that I still love you."

I pulled myself up off the floor, dragging my feet all the way back into the bathroom. I clamoured into the warm spray of water. I leaned forward, spreading my hands out on the tiles in front of me. My hair fell limply past my shoulders, the warmth of the water soaking into my skin. I ran one hand down my face, wiping the excess wetness away. I only had one option left, one that I wasn't necessarily sure I wanted to take, but one that was pertinent in helping me move on.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

Today was the day that I embarked on the journey of a lifetime. New York was my destination and I was ready for anything life was about to throw at me. This time last week, when the offer was made, I hadn't been solid in my decision to make the trip until I realized that he still had access to me, but I did not. After discovering his present, I knew it was in my best interest to get out. There was only one way to move on and that was to leave Charming and everyone close to it far, far behind. Within the last week I'd gotten everything I owned packed into boxes and loaded into the back of the moving truck. I'd even employed my brother, Andy, to take a week off from work to come out to Cali and drive with me across the country.

I stood in the middle of my empty apartment with a shoebox in my hands. I was shaking, scared to move on. I wasn't ready to leave him behind and everything in this box was the last bit evidence that I had of him in my life. I pulled the silver chain out of my hoodie's pocket and gazed at the ring, swinging back and forth. I swallowed, biting back tears. I bent down, placing the box in the middle of my floor, where the bed used to be. I popped the top off and shuffled through the dozens of Polaroid's within the box. I picked up the one photo of the two of us. We were curled up against the head board, my head resting against his chest. He was gazing out at the camera with a slight curve to his mouth. It wasn't a smile but it was more than his usual scowl. My hair was splayed out across his naked torso and I was grinning brilliantly up at the camera. My arms were straightened out, holding the camera towards us, snapping the selfie. My eyes were closed due to the flash and you could see the contrast of our skin tones in the stark background. There were so many instances that showed the vast difference between us. At every turn there was something more making itself know that we were just too dissimilar. I dropped the photo back into the pile and pulled out his last message to me, from my pocket. I placed it on top of everything, leaving all reminders of him there for him to find. I curled my fist around the ring in my hand. I had intended to throw it in the box along with everything else but couldn't bring myself to let go. My grip tightened around the ring, feeling the metal push into my skin. Unable to fully leave every memory of him behind I looped the chain over my neck and tucked it underneath my shirt. I fastened the cover back on the box and stood up.

"You ready to go Elle?" My brother called from the open door.

I turned around to him, a sad smile on my lips and a few tears welled in my eyes and nodded, "Just saying my last goodbyes."

"Come on kiddo, off to the big city we go." He opened his arms up to me.

Keeping the box blocked from his view, I moved forward and let my big brother spin me around out the front door. I was never going to be back here again. Our lives had gone down two different courses. I slipped my hand into the collar of my shirt, and tugged on the chain there. I could feel the bump of his Reaper through my sweater. I would always carry a piece of him with me no matter where I was meant to go in this life. I would never forget him. He was a complicated man but that didn't stop me from loving him.

I slipped into my stuffed Honda Civic, while my brother climbed up into the moving truck. The two of us were about to drive across the country, my entire life packed into these two vehicles. My brother gave me a thumbs ups and pulled away from the curb. I reversed from my spot, following behind him. I gazed back at the empty windows of my apartment, picturing the box left in the middle of my floor.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

He pulled up to the curb, unable to stop himself from making the trip. They'd been in Oakland and although he promised himself to leave her alone he was already in the area. He convinced himself he'd only stop to try and catch a glimpse of her shadow and wouldn't be more than a few minutes. Chibs had seen him veer off from the company, giving him a look that indicated that Chibs knew exactly what he was doing.

He pulled up to the curb, killing the engine of his Harley. He pulled his helmet off and grabbed his cigarette pack. He lit a new one and then gazed up at her windows. It was late afternoon and he'd grown so accustomed to the layout of her apartment that he noticed right away when he didn't see the familiar shadow of her bookcases. He narrowed his eyes, something was amiss. Unsure of what compelled him to do so, he found himself across the street and picking the lock to the building. Within a minute he was indoors and skipping up the steps, two at a time. He reached her apartment door, and found it sitting a jar. He pulled his Glock out of back of his jeans, extended both arms, and nudged the door open. He stepped through the threshold, using his gun to survey the room.

He dropped his hands down, dumbfounded. It was empty. There was no sign of her anywhere. He turned his head, searching for anything that belonged to her and came up empty. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He took one step forward, gazing into the kitchen area and then over to where her bedroom had been. Then he found it. There in the middle of the empty room was a shoebox with his name written on hit. He stared at, recognizing the symbolism. He'd left her a similar gift after her graduation.

His feet moved forward on their own, bringing him to stand in front of the ominous box. He tugged on his jeans, pulling them up and crouched down in front of it. With a hesitant hand, he hooked a finger under the lid and flung it off. He noticed two things right off the bat. First was that she'd left his note behind, scratched out and her own written below it. Second was that there was a picture of the two of them sitting right next to it.

He picked up the note, reading it a few times before her words sank in.

 _"I will remember you… Will you remember me?"_

He swore, standing and kicking the box away from him, tipping it over and all the stills scattering around the floor. She was gone.

"Fuck!" He hollered.

He hadn't expected her to just up and leave. He expected to be able to come and check on her every once in a while, even though he promised himself he wouldn't. He never thought there would come a time when she wouldn't be there. He paced the room, stopping at the window and seeing his Harley sitting in the late afternoon sunlight. It dawned on him then that she hadn't left his ring behind. That gave him a tiny semblance of solace, knowing that she didn't hate him too much.

He turned back around, staring at the toppled over box. He bent down, scooping up the contents, pausing when he found that one picture again. He gazed at the picture, remembering the night in vivid colour. That was the night he'd just gotten back from being on the run, the last time he spent any time with her before she was shot. He tucked both the picture and the note into the front pocket of his cut and carried the box full of Polaroid's outside. He shoved it into one of his saddlebags, lit a cigarette and sat against his bike, staring at the building where she lived. He had no idea where she'd gone, but he knew she was on the right path. His rested one hand on his breast, covering where his pocket was. He could feel the slight outline of the photo sitting there. He would always carry her with him, sitting right above his heart.

* * *

 **~(FIN)~**

* * *

 **A/N: This is the end of the main story. I have an epilogue written (in two parts). Should I wait until Wednesday to post?**


	27. Epilogue I: My Promised Land

**A/N: I started this entire story with a scene from the future, now I'm ending it with a scene in the future.**

 **Playlist:** _Promised Land - Omi_

 **Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA**

* * *

 _…Three years later…_

He drove through the night, arriving at his mother's doorstep when the sun began to rise. He slipped through the door, pushed his boots off and laid back on the couch, pulling the throw over him. He didn't want to wake his mother, knowing that she had an early appointment at the hospital this morning. The last few weeks and been long and trying. He needed a break, spend some time with his ailing mother. If he learned anything from the last week, it was that loved ones wouldn't be around forever and he needed to cherish the time he had with them. Within minutes he'd fallen into a sound sleep.

By the time he woke up, it was mid-morning, nearing ten. The house was quiet but he could still smell the aroma of freshly made breakfast. His mom had only been gone at most a half hour, meaning that breakfast was probably still hot. He stretched up, rolling his aging joints with multiple cracks. A low groan escaped through his closed mouth. He stood, his knees locking with a brief crack and then releasing. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he felt old. His body was breaking down, no longer as spry as it used to be. He'd have to get back to working out on a daily basis. He wasn't about to get lazy now. Not when it mattered most.

He padded his way into the kitchen, finding the spread his mother left out for him on the kitchenette table. He pulled out the nearest chair and sat down, picking up a plate and dropping it in front of him. He spooned out a heaping serving of chilaquiles from the middle tray and dumped it onto his plate. He picked up his fork, smiling as he saw that his mother had placed the bundle of his mail next to the cutlery. He shook his head, even this late in life, his mother was still organizing everything for him.

He rammed a forkful of food into his mouth, scanning through the contents of his mail; all bills. Near the end of the pile he found a different envelope, one that looked like a card. It was addressed to him in a hand writing that seemed familiar but he couldn't place. He flipped it over checking to see if there was a return address but nothing was written. He took another bite of food before dropping the fork onto his plate and ripping the envelope open. His brow furrowed as he read the front of the card.

 ** _America's Last Oligarchy_**

It was a simple white card, and directly under the title was a sketch he'd seen a million times. It was the final drafted version of their Reaper. He froze, unsure of what exactly he was holding. He turned the card over, noting the information there. It was impersonal, stating when and where the gallery had been set up. San Francisco… She was back… He gazed back at the pile of mail and saw an identical invitation addressed to his mother, only hers was thicker. He grabbed it and found that it was already opened. It was bait. His mother wanted him to snoop, she planned this. He began to wonder if she even had an appointment this morning. That woman was as meddlesome as they came. Without another thought, he opened his mother's invitation and found an additional sheet of paper in there, filled with words written by the woman whose heart he broke along with his. He stared at the folded letter, unsure if he should read anything she'd written. Did he really want to know? She hadn't even bothered to add anything in his. That could be a sign.

All caution thrown to the wind and curiosity taking over he unfolded the letter and began reading.

 _Leticia,_

 _There are a thousand things I wish to write you about, but the only one that matters is that you know how sorry I am for my last letter. You've been nothing but supportive of my work but I was angry. Not at you, of course, but you were my last and closest link to him. I'm sincerely sorry it's taken me this long to try and rekindle our relationship, but I wasn't sure you could ever forgive me._

 _I digress. My dreams are coming true. I've opened a gallery! Everything I worked towards, these last three years, to achieve has proven fruitful. I know you're ill and unable to travel long distances, but if there's any chance you're feeling up to it, I'd love to see you. I'm sure you'd love seeing the depiction of your son that I've chosen to display._

 _In any case, I've fit a smaller version of my favourite photo for you. It was taken accidently but it turned out perfect. I've made it the center point of the project._

 _Thank you for all your support._

 _Elle._

He stared at the letter for a moment, wondering how long his mother had been in contact with Elle after she left. He squeezed the envelope feeling the firm card within but also noting that there was still a bit of a bulge. He remembered Elle's words, about her adding a photo. He pulled the invitation out and a photo filtered out, falling onto the table upside down. He reached for it, flipping it quickly and staring at the picture. He recognized it immediately, knowing the exact day it was taken. He was thrown back into the past, reliving the day she decided to try and get everyone together for a group shot. She'd gotten pissed off and ordered Koz away with her remote. This must have been one of the ones that he'd taken while aimlessly pressing the button on her remote.

He gulped, marveling at the raw emotion in the shot. You couldn't see her face, but her hands were placed on either side of his cut, and he was smiling, his eyes shining as he looked down at her. It was the perfect picture, one that he never knew existed. His heart pulled at the thought of her, and seeing her blonde hair again. It didn't matter that the photo was in black and white, he could still see the sun bleached hair she sported. He put the photo down, and attempted to keep eating but was too distracted to concentrate on chewing. He counted backwards, trying to figure out how long it'd been since he'd been to see his mother. He picked up Elle's letter once again and read the date in the corner. He coughed, it was dated nearly three months ago. Had it really been that long since he came to see his mother? He threw his fork on to his still full plate and leaned back in his chair. He propped his elbows on to the table and hung his head between his hands. He'd let himself get so wrapped up in the club that he forgot about his mother. His sick and possibly dying mother.

In frustration he kicked the table, "Fuck!"

" _Mijo_?" he heard his mother's soft voice call from the front door.

He jumped up, turning to see her just getting home. In three long strides he was across the kitchen and in the front hall, his mother caught in his arms.

"I'm sorry Ma." He apologized.

She laughed, patting his back, "Whatever for?"

He let go of her, following after her as she made her way back into the kitchen. She passed the table, stopping to see that he'd gone through his mail.

She turned back to him, a gentle smile on her face, "I see you've gone through your mail."

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked.

It was a loaded question. He wanted to know how long they'd been writing to each other, why she hadn't called him to tell him about the invitation but most of all why she hadn't called him sooner to come and visit.

She shrugged, "You were busy, _mijo_. I didn't want to interfere."

"Ma!" He scolded, "Asking me to come see you isn't interfering."

She shook her head, dismissing the argument he was starting. It was too late to fix his tardiness and she didn't want him to feel guilty.

"Are you going?" She finally asked him. He stared at her blankly, still unsure if it was a good idea or not. As if sensing his hesitation she continued, "She wouldn't have sent it if she didn't want to see you."

He inhaled deeply, still on the fence. Seemingly from nowhere, his mother produced his cut, folded neatly in her hands. She held it out to him, expectantly waiting for him to take it. He grabbed the cut and his fist tightened around it as he watched his mother close in on him.

His mother approached him, placing a hand on his cheek, "Go _mijo_. She still loves you."

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

I was holding the portfolio that Adam had given me to look over. We'd gone out for dinner three times already and I found myself enjoying his company but it wasn't amazing. There was something missing between us, I didn't really feel that all-encompassing spark. I wasn't going to write him off just yet. Just because I didn't feel the connection now, didn't mean it wouldn't grow on me. He was the perfect gentleman, always doting on my every move, the complete opposite of my last relationship. For the majority of the time I spent with Adam, we spoke only of the article, and very little about our personal lives. I was hesitant to open up, remembering how my love life tanked last time. On the third night, we spent our date piecing together the magazine article. This resulted in him stopping by earlier, in the late morning, to drop off his potential first draft for my approval. I spent most of the day rearranging the layout and had Casey give input where I needed direction. By the time we worked through the bulk of it, it was getting close to closing. The gallery had been slow all day, being a weekday, but there were always a few stragglers here and there. With the portfolio in my hands and Casey peering over my shoulder, we walked out from the back room.

"I was thinking of moving this piece to the end." I mentioned.

She nodded, "It could work but what if you take this one and put it here?" She picked up a picture of Kozik and rearranged it with one of Juice and Chibs.

I gave her a pout of approval, "I hadn't thought of that." I pointed to the picture of Gemma, one that everyone seemed to love, "Think I should use this one as the starter?"

She snorted, "No way. You know which one I think should open with." She shouldered her way around me, walking a few steps ahead.

I rolled my eyes at her, "You know how I feel about that one. If I keep broadcasting it, it's going to be obvi – " My sentence was cut off as I walked into her still back. The pictures in the book were jostled and I let out a huff. I would have to rearrange them all again. I creased my eyebrows together, "What the hell, Case?"

When she didn't move which made me look up. She had turned towards me, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Elle…" She whispered.

I slammed the folder shut, "What?"

She didn't say anything and instead stepped to the left, leaving me a clear view of what had startled her. It took me a few seconds to process what I was seeing. At first I thought it was a figment of my imagination but then he shifted on his feet and I was thrown for a loop. My heart stopped and I held a breath. I stared at him, noticing his subtle goatee and the almost all white facial hair he sported. There were more pronounced age lines around his eyes and lining his cheeks. He aged, not ungracefully, but it was noticeable. I took in the scene in front of me, completely silent. I tilted my head sideways, gathering the décor of the gallery and then having him standing there. He looked out of place and uncomfortable. He didn't fit in at all. It was a testament to how completely opposite we were from each other. All on his own, he had become an art project. Projecting the difference between of our worlds just by standing in the middle of my gallery. An insane smile grew on my face and I let out a chuckle of disbelief. Casey inhaled sharply at my reaction, smacking me in the arm. I broke out into complete laughter, tears brimming my eyes.

"Elle!" She hissed through her teeth, "What's wrong with you."

I was doubled over with giggles, and between breaths I explained, "It's ridiculous. Even surrounded by these pictures, he looks so out of place."

I heaved in a deep breath, straightening back up. Happy hadn't moved a muscle but everything he was feeling was clear in his expression. I confused him. He steeled his face, closing off.

I bit my lip, "You know… Even after all this time… I can still read you like a book."

There was a sudden flash in his eyes. He'd gone from the famed killer to the hidden Happy I discovered long ago, in a flash. A softness graced his features, showing me that even after all this time, _my_ Happy still existed under that façade. I guessed that my comment reminded him of the good times, the ones where we were carefree. Not that it was hard to remember, everything was plastered on the walls around us, reminding us of every step we took together, and ultimately the ones that we didn't. I pictured this moment for months on end but I never imagined this is how it would turn out. I always imaged a teary reunion, on my part, and declarations of long lost love but here we stood, my tears caused of laughter and nothing but an awkward air brewing between us. I handed Casey the closed portfolio and she swept past both of us, eager to head to the front.

I took a tentative step forward. I honestly thought I'd be a blubbering mess if I ever saw him again but in this moment, I was more shocked than anything. However, the longer we stood in silence the more frustrated I became. It left me to my thoughts, which was never a good thing. _What was he doing here now? A week before closing. What took him so long? Had he kept me waiting deliberately?_ I sighed. There was no reason to get worked up over things that I couldn't control. The only I could do was ask questions; the one thing I was exceptionally good at.

"Why now?" I asked.

I was purposely keeping my distance from him. I was unsure of how I felt. There was that familiar pull, my heart pounding and a warming in my stomach, but I didn't want to react on those feelings. Especially if they weren't reciprocated. More than anything I wanted to know why he chose now to finally show up. _Was this just his way of saying don't contact me? To stay away?_

"I got the invitation this morning." He said.

I gave him a blank stare. _Was it just me or was that the lamest excuse ever uttered?_

I blinked once, "I'm sorry?"

I needed him to give me a better explanation than that. All I got in response was him shrugging. That action open the gates, and my frustration turned into simmering anger.

I shook my head, hissing my words, laced in venom, "That's it? What have you been doing for three months? Traipsing around the countryside with your _brothers_?"

His expression became cold. He was shutting down again and it made me wonder. There was something off, something I didn't know. _What happened in the last few years?_ Shit was hitting the fan when I finally left, but this was something more.

I watched the flex of his jaw, before he spat out, "Don't talk about what you don't know."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You know, I imagined this differently. I seriously thought this was going to be one of those Hollywood movie endings. You know the ones where the guy apologizes for being a _dick_."

"You still don't get it." He shook his head.

I threw my hands in the air, "You're right. I _don't_! Care to shed a little light on the situation?"

He took a step forward and I mirrored him taking a step back.

"Don't come near me." I warned.

He let an exasperated sigh, "Elle."

"Don't fucking _Elle_ me. I'm not a child." I hollered, "You don't get to come back here and pretend like things didn't end the way they did. _You_ lied to me. _You_ punched holes in my resolve. _You_ pretended to fucking love me!"

In the heat of the moment I burst into tears. The hot water spilling down my cheeks. I lifted my hands to my face, and shoved the heels of my palm into my eyes, willing away the tears. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. Everything was all wrong.

"I did it for you." He finally spoke.

My nostrils flared, sarcasm dripping through my words, "Me? You did all that for me? Oh... well I guess I should be thankful! I guess I should appreciate you ripping my heart out!"

He shook his head, taking another step forward. I continued to back away from him while he continued to advance. I tripped, falling back into the wall behind me and he cornered me, his body trapping me in place. My breathing hitched, having him this close to me. I'd spent so much time tricking myself into believing he was just a hallucination that the entire make up of my willpower was crumbling before me. I hung my head, afraid to look him in the eyes.

"Elle." His hushed voice floated between us.

I clamped my eyes shut, shaking my head, "No. You don't get to come in here and ruin the walls I built."

His hand brushed against my side, ghosting over where my scar was. I flinched at his touch, cowering closer in to the wall.

"I did it for you." He repeated.

"What does that even mean?" I whined, losing all composure and sinking down to my knees.

I caught my head in my hands and sobbed. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. _Where were the declarations of love? Why was everything turning to shit?_ I heard the crinkle in his leather as he squatted, keeping himself eye level.

"To keep you safe." He explained.

He reached into the front pocket of his cut, brandishing a very tattered picture and handed it to me. I wiped away the wetness on my face, gazing down at what he'd given me. It was the picture of us; one of the ones I left in the shoebox. I flipped it over in my palm and found my note tapped to the back. I stared up at him, every single bad memory replaying in my mind's eye. The two memories that stood out the most were the ones where Clay threatened to kill me and then the one where Happy broke up with me. The realization dawned on me and I let out another cry.

"Why couldn't you just tell me …?" I sobbed, "Why did you have to turn everything around on me? Make me question all the decisions I made?"

His hands reached out and tucked my hair behind my ears, "Would you have left?"

I tilted my head, understanding why he took such drastic measures to ensure that I left. I sighed and he grabbed my hands, pulling me back to a standing position. There was so much left unsaid between us. I couldn't help but notice the way his demeanor had shifted. He held himself in a defeated position. It wasn't one that I ever remembered him having. I noted the tone he used while speaking in a way that eluded to a drastic change. He seemed crushed but willing himself to continue marching forth.

"There's something different about you… What happened?" I quizzed.

He took a deep breath but shook his head. He walked away from me, back to where I'd first seen him. He studied the picture before him. I moved to his side.

"You never showed me this one." He nodded in the direction of the picture displayed there.

I shrugged, "Kozik took it. I moved to stand beside him, "I didn't actually find it until over a year later. I was cleaning off my hard drive when I discovered a folder of unopened pictures."

He continued to stare at the picture and I wished I could read his thoughts. He seemed taken with it. I flexed my fingers, wanting to touch him and was reminded that I was still holding the Polaroid I my hand. I gazed down at it, astonished that he'd kept it on him all his time. From the corner of my eye, I caught him watching me, I lifted my hand to him, giving the picture back. He reached out, his hand brushing against mine and paused. Our gazes locked and he opened his mouth only to snap it shut again. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for whatever it was he was trying to say. He ground his teeth together, the subtle tic showing in his cheeks.

He rolled his eyes, frustrated with himself and mumbled, "I-I love you."

A wry smile overcame me, my eyes squinting with the force of my happiness.

"Well _that_ only took you four years." I quipped.

He grabbed my waist, spinning me around into his chest, "Shut up."

His lips crashed down onto mine. I melted into his embrace, my hands looped around his neck. He brushed one hand through my hair, pressing it on the back of my neck. He pulled away, his eyebrows creased inward.

"What?" I frowned.

He pulled on the short ends of my hair, "What happened here?"

I chuckled, "I chopped it all off. I needed a change once I got to New York."

He scowled, unimpressed with the new length of my hair. I rolled my eyes and tugged him closer, our mouths meeting again in rejoice. The world around us spun and I couldn't stop the wide grin from forming on my mouth. I nibbled on his bottom lip. We broke away, our breathing hitched. He laid his forehead against mine, our noses touching.

"You here to stay?" He asked.

I closed my eyes, memorizing the sound of his harsh rasp. I missed that voice. Hell I even missed the way he spoke, or lack thereof. I never wanted to lose this, or him, again. I imagined we'd be reunited, but it was only that; a dream. Now that it was tangible I was terrified of losing it again.

I nodded, peering into his dark black eyes, "I can be."


	28. Epilogue II: Went From Wrong to Right

**A/N: I want to say a big thank you to every one of you who have been with me since the beginning and a shout out to everyone who found this story and kept up with it. I really couldn't have done this without your support. It's been a hell of a ride and I appreciate all of you. This story would not have made it this far without you. You guys are the best.**

 **For those of you who are just finding this, don't think you can't drop a review just because it's over. I always love hearing from all my readers. You're the ones who help make my imagination run wild!**

 **I have a few deleted scenes that I've decided I'm going to post on Tumblr (no timeline thought). Follow me there –** crimsonheart01 **. They'll only be small imagines and I'm probably not going to add them here. I haven't fully decided yet.**

 **Also I'm always around to chat! Just send me a PM here or ASK on tumblr =)**

 **I WILL BE BACK (with more stories)! Keep an eye out.**

 **Playlist:** _Love at First Sight – Kylie Minogue_

 **Disclaimer: Sutter owns SOA**

* * *

"Come on," He started, "I want to take you somewhere."

I followed behind him as we exited the gallery. I stopped at the front desk and Casey handed me my purse and cardigan. I slipped my arms into my sweater, and then looped the strap of my purse over my shoulder. Casey gave me a wink and I smirked at her as we hit the sidewalk. Happy guided me over to his Harley, gleaming in the sunshine. He leaned over, opening one of his saddlebags and pulled out an extra helmet. He handed it to me and I took it, a laugh hiding in my throat.

I coughed it away and peered at the item in my hands, "You kept this?"

He just stared at me, the look on his face telling me that I shouldn't even have to ask. Of course he did. He'd kept the few things that reminded him of me; never letting my memory fade. I flipped the helmet in my hands, noticing the initials carved into the inside of it. _HK_. Kozik had given me his spare to use on the ride I was supposed to accompany him on. Turned out the first time Happy and I rode together. From that day on, Kozik was adamant that I keep it, never allowing me to return it to him. My eyes started to water as I thought about him, and remembered his stupid childlike grin. I bunched as much of my hair as possible, tying back into a miniscule ponytail and tucking the remaining bits behind my ears. I strapped the helmet to my head, realizing just how long it had been since I'd been on the back of a Harley. I gulped, scared senseless, remembering the sensations from my first ride. Happy climbed on the Harley, straightening out the bars and waited for me.

"You realize I'm wearing a dress right?" He rolled his eyes and patted the seat behind him.

I shrugged, thankful that my dress went down to just below my knees. I placed both hands on his shoulders, gripping tight swinging my left leg over and positioning myself on the back of the motorcycle. I tipped forward, folding my dress neatly so that I wasn't exposing myself and then slid my arms through his, clamping them down around his waist.

"It's been a while." I joked with a nervous laugh.

He jumped into first gear, turning the throttle with a violent pull and the engine revved loudly. I squealed and constricted my arms, burying my head in his shoulder. I felt the rumble of laughter roll through him at my reaction.

I leaned back, smacking his arm, "Asshole."

He turned his head in my direction, his profile shadowed by the sun, "You love me."

I saw that stupid coy smirk grow on his mouth and I shook my head at his cockiness.

I rested my chin on his shoulder, "Just drive."

He backed out and drifted towards the other end of the parking lot, slowly passing the gallery doors. I waved to Casey who was swooning enough for all three of us. She jumped up onto her tiptoes, waving us off and clapping. As we approached the end of the lot, a black Mercedes pulled up opposite to us at the same time as Happy was about to make a left turn. I saw as Adam rolled down the window, his mouth dropping in shock. Happy tilted his head in the other man's direction and nodded, revving the throttle. I laughed, thrilled by Hap's display of ownership. I shrugged and pouted, my way of apologizing to Adam before Happy sped off in the opposite direction, my laughter ringing in the air behind us.

* * *

 **~(xXx)~**

* * *

Happy pulled up to what looked like a row of empty warehouses on the docks. It was closer to home than I thought it would be, not that Charming was all that far away. It was probably because I wasn't used to the ride anymore, but in my mind I made Charming much farther away than it really was. He turned the ignition off, set the kickstand, and climbed off. I remained seated on the back, my hands resting on the seat in front of me. My back and arms straight as I watched Happy get situated. I flexed my fingertips, memorizing the feeling of the hot leather. Happy set his helmet down on the side mirror before turning to me with a hand out. I smiled, giddy at being around him again.

"Such a gentleman." I joked as I placed my hand in his and he guided me back onto me feet.

I let go of his hand and reached for the clasp of the buckle. I lifted the hard helmet off my head and Happy took it from me, setting it down on my seat. I smiled at him, recognizing the subtle gesture. I knew that spot would always be just for me. I tugged the hair tie out of my hair, letting my hair fall back. I waited as he pulled a cigarette pack out of his pocket and lit one. Once he was set, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me close and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him with a small laugh. He steered me in the direction between the two closest grey buildings. As we approached the door to the building on our left, it swung open and an extremely pissed off officer stomped through. She was tall, thin and had dark brown hair. Her face was flush with anger. She nearly knocked into us before she noticed us standing there. She raised an eyebrow at me, not even trying to hide the fact that she was judging me. I noticed the Sheriff's badge on her utility belt and understood the look on her face. They were the Sons of Anarchy after all, not entirely friendly with the law. With a slight turn, I faced Happy, a question in my eyes. He opened his mouth to explain when the door was thrust open again. Happy was quick to move out of the way, pulling us both back. The sheriff shouldered around us, pushing onward.

"You're making a big mistake." That all too familiar Scottish brogue sounded.

A bright smile grew on my lips and I ducked away from Happy's protective arms. The sheriff paused as she heard his voice ring out from behind the door. Chibs rounded the open door and his eyes glazed over me, searching for the person he was yelling at. He spotted the sheriff a few feet behind me, making an attempt to walk around me but I pushed my sunglasses up into my hair. Chibs spared another glance in my direction and then noticed Happy standing to my left. He stopped abruptly and his mouth dropped open. All the tension in his face, from whatever argument he was having, disappeared and he grinned.

"Well I'll be damned…" He glanced at Hap, "Is that our Ellie girl?" Without giving Happy or I a chance to answer he swept me up into a tight bear hug, swinging me in a full circle.

I laughed out loud, the sound echoing in the air around us. He stopped and set me down, leaving one hand on my shoulder. His back was facing the sheriff and I caught her bewildered expression from behind him. I ignored her, elated to be back in the midst of my extended family.

"Chibbie!" I lifted up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, "I missed you."

He tugged me closer again, squeezing and then threw his arm around my shoulder making a quick checked with Happy, seeing if it was ok that he was embracing me. I saw Happy's nod of approval and we pushed on forward, Chibs grabbing the doorknob and tearing it open.

"Let's go reunite you with the boys, yeah?" He spoke as we all passed the threshold, the door slamming closed behind us.

"Tig!" Chibs shouted.

I gazed around the room. To my right there was an office, where I could see the famed table, meaning that this was their new clubhouse. I wondered what happened to TM but felt there would be another time to ask questions. To my left there was an island style bar and what I could only assume were porn sets. I shook my head with amusement, some things never changed.

Tig was standing beside one of the stools, where a long legged woman was seated, drinking a fruit cocktail. Tig inclined his head in Chibs' direction but didn't turn.

"I'm a little busy" He shouted back.

Chibs roared with laughter and yelled back, "Yer gonna wanna see this."

Tig sighed and both he and his woman turned in my direction. I raised my hand to chest level, shrugging a little and waved at him with a shy smile. He dropped the cigarette between his fingers.

"You've got to be shittin' me." He said. He gazed past me, looking to Happy for answers, "Hap? Is this for real?"

I didn't see Happy's reaction but assumed it was yet another nod of confirmation.

"Tiggy." I greeted, using my tiny girlish voice.

His eyes rolled back and an exaggerated shiver ran through him. He shook his entire body before running forward, pulling me into a tight hug.

We were interrupted when a deepened feminine voice asked, "Excuse me, but _who_ may I ask is my boyfriend holding?"

I glanced up to see the transwoman who had been sitting at the bar with Tig.

I pushed Tig away and attempted to explain who I was but Tig interrupted, "Baby, this is Happy's Old Lady."

I dropped my mouth open in protest, "That has yet to be determined."

Tig shook his head and I felt Happy approach me from behind. His arms slid around my middle and his breath brushed past my ear as he spoke, "No."

I grabbed his hands, turning in his embrace to face him, "Really?"

He nodded, his eyes focussed on mine, "Yeah."

"Wooooo!" Chibs clapped, "This calls for a drink."

Happy and I stayed standing where we were. I had a smile plastered to my face. We'd only just reunited and he was already making serious declarations. There was no 'I love you to the moon and back' but admitting that I was his Old Lady, now that was a stand on its own. One that these boys valued as high as their brotherhood. I sniffed, wiping my eyes in a swift motion. I leaned into Happy, laying my head on his chest. This wasn't what I was expecting. Just yesterday I had been resigned to the idea that I'd never see him again. He lifted one hand, running his fingers along the chain around my neck and tugged his ring out from under the top of my dress.

"How did you – " I started to ask but cut myself off realizing that he was the one who gave me the chain in the first place. Of course he recognized it. I backed up an inch, wrapping a hand around his, both of us clutching the metal memento.

"I've never taken it off." I admitted.

With a strong tug, he busted the chain off my neck, the ring gliding down into his hand. He lifted my left hand between us and slipped the Reaper onto my ring finger.

"Happy." I whispered, in complete awe.

Not only had he acknowledged his feelings for me, he was outright marking his territory by placing his ring on my finger.

"I'm not about to lose you again." He rasped.

I lifted my hands, framing his face and pulling his mouth to mine.

"Get over here you two lovebirds." Chibs shouted from the bar.

Happy's face lit up into one of his rare smiles and we both joined the rest of the Sons at the bar. I sat myself down on the nearest stool, next to Tig's woman.

"Elle." I held out a hand and introduced myself.

She grabbed my hand, admiring the ring on my finger and then smiled, "Well aren't you a little slice of heaven." She let go of my hand and introduced herself, "Venus."

Happy handed me a glass of clear alcohol, from the smell I assumed gin, remembering my disdain for beer. I grinned at him and took a sip. The boys all took turns clapping their hands on Happy's back, congratulating him on finally settling down.

Venus leaned towards me and whispered, "I don't think I've ever seen that man actually smile." I chuckled at her statement, and she continued, "Is it bad of me to say that his smile scares me more than his 'killer' face?"

I nearly spit out the liquid in my mouth I was laughing so hard. Venus reached out and patted me on the back, helping me through my little choking ordeal.

Once I was breathing normally I nodded, "It's rare, but it happens."

I gazed out, over at Happy. I sighed, this day was proving to be the best one of my life. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught me staring and gave me a sly wink. I scrunched up my nose with a smile, biting my lower lip. Venus caught the exchange, her own smile growing.

She bobbed her head up and down, casting me a side glance, "I don't know where you came from, or how you know these boys, but you've come back into their lives at time when they needed it the most."

I stared up at her, and she caught all the questions in my eyes. She shook her head, making it clear that she wasn't going to be the one to break the news. I turned back to the Sons on the other side of the counter. There were only three men that I was still familiar with; Tig, Chibs and Happy. The rest were all new faces, ones that I'd never seen before. I wasn't blind and I noticed the missing men. In my mind I did a head count: Kozik, Jackson, Opie, Bobby, Juice, Piney and Clay. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what happened, but there would come a time when Happy would have to tell me. Now that I was bearing his Reaper I was officially all in. There wasn't going to be a 'need-to-know' this time around. I wanted to hear everything that my man was involved with, even if knowing endangered my life.

I stared at Hap and his brothers, lost in a daze, as they milled around joking with one another. My trance was interrupted by a door sliding open on the other side of the bar, behind the group. I peered over the bar, catching long, wavy blonde hair and a very petite woman entering the studio. I let out a small gasp and the noise drew Hap's attention back to me. He turned to see me frozen, staring at the woman who had just come in. He followed my gaze and put together the pieces. I shifted my gaze to him and he gave a short nod, encouraging me to rebuild that relationship. I took a deep breath and pushed myself out of my chair. I rounded the bar, feeling a dozen eyes on my back as I moved.

"Lyla?" I called.

She was busy discussing business with a large man holding a thick book. I assumed it was probably the expense binder but couldn't know for sure. Without registering my voice she turned with a smile.

"Ye – " Her response was halted when her eyes settled on me.

Her face grew solemn and I gave her a tentative smile, apologizing for everything I didn't do. I'd left her alone, in a time that was trying for her and never came back. I didn't expect her to accept any form of apology from me. I figured she was pissed, rightfully so. If I was in her position I'd turn around and walk in the other direction. I'd been a shit friend, and she had every right to keep this bridge burned.

Out of nowhere she waved her hands in front of her eyes, sniffling, "Elle?"

I nodded and she squealed. She ran towards me and we wrapped our arms around one another. I squeezed her tight, realizing now how stupid it was to cut my ties with her. She'd always been such a great friend. We let go and she pushed back, smacking me on the arm.

"Fuck Elle! Where the hell have you been? There's so much I have to tell you." She blubbered.

My eyes widened, "You aren't mad."

She rolled her eyes, "You were my best friend. I couldn't be mad at you even if I wanted to!"

Behind us I heard a voice I wasn't familiar with ask, "Think they'll do a movie together?"

"Fuck yeah! I'd watch that." Another voice joined in.

Both Lyla and I shifted our gazes at the group behind us, a scalding glare for two men making ridiculous suggestions. It was all for naught because Happy's growl was loud and overpowering.

He grabbed the skinny looking guy by the scruff of his t-shirt, "Watch what you say boy, that's my woman you're talking about."

I giggled at Happy's reaction when my arm was nearly pulled out of its socket.

"Elle!" Lyla shrieked.

I turned back to her and her eyes were glued to the silver ring on my finger. She whipped her head back in direction of the Sons and pointed at Happy. His eyes were narrowed and he shoved the younger man away from him, turning back to us.

"Happy!" She screamed, "Oh my god! It's about _fucking_ time."

Chibs howled with laughter, a resounding slap on Hap's back and Lyla yanked me forward into another hug. I buried my face into her hair, thankful to have my friend back.

After the excitement died down she whispered in my ear, "I missed you, Elle."

I pulled back, "I missed you too."

We walked over to the bar, resuming where I'd just been seated and joined in on the conversation. Lyla started discussing potential wedding plans while I rolled my eyes at her eagerness. As the conversation carried on, Happy found himself gravitating towards me, leaning against the bar across from me. In a lull of his conversation, he bowed forward, catching my lips in his. I paused what I was saying to Lyla to give Hap my full attention and when he tried to pull away, I wouldn't let him. My hand snaked around the back of his neck and I kept him locked in.

"Hey." Tig yelled, "Save it for later, you two!"

In a simultaneous turn, we both glared at Tig, who threw his hands up in surrender. The group around us broke into obnoxious laughter and I leaned away from Happy. He gave me another wink, while Lyla wrapped one of her hands around mine.

I was finally home.

* * *

 **~(FIN)~**


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